


While My Guitar Gently Weeps

by greyquill



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Humor, For seasoning, Found Family, LITERALLY, Liu Yang Yang-centric, M/M, Questing, but not too much Angst, edo era meets cowboys, just a little sprinkle of it, period-typical violence, samurai cowboys, transgender moon taeil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyquill/pseuds/greyquill
Summary: Every year, without fail, the Moon Festival is celebrated on the night of the full moon of the eighth month to honor the sacrifices of the Moon Queen and her warriors. Every year, Yangyang grows more restless. His mother, Lee Yongqin, was one of those warriors along with his unknown father. He was a pup when the war happened, and it left him an orphan, but that's nothing a quest can't fix.~~~Alternatively: Orphan Yangyang is happy living his ordinary life until the chance to find his mother presents itself.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Liu Yang Yang, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Liu Yang Yang & Everyone, Nakamoto Yuta/Qian Kun, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 68
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. Today is a good day. It almost seems like fate that this baby that I've worked on for two weeks be released the same day we finally get taeten selcas. I am levitating. Anyway, this was inspired by Kubo and the Two Strings (2016) which is a very amazing film, easily one of my favorites. I highly recommend :)

“Every year, we celebrate the Moon Festival. It’s not just a celebration where we spend time with our loved ones or enjoy candied apples and moon waffles. It’s a day when we celebrate the victory of the Moon Queen over the Sun King. She, along with her army, defeated their forces. They died fighting for us and our freedom. They gave up their comfort so we could have ours.”

Children sit before a tiny puppet theater, entranced by the paper depictions of the Moon Queen, commanding attention in white and blue robes, the Sun King, in fiery reds and yellows. The puppeteer makes the figures clash in battle, the children watch with wide-eyes, some even cheer for the Moon Queen.

The narrator continues the tale, “It was a long fight, lasting days and nights. The Moon Queen, despite being an omega, held off all the alpha Sun King’s attacks and landed many of her own. Infuriated, the Sun King went feral—” the puppet of the King is replaced with one of a giant monster—“his claws dragged on the floor and his teeth were so sharp and big, the Moon Queen could see her reflection in them. He chased after her, but what he didn’t know was that the Queen had two secret weapons of her own.”

The children collectively gasp as the Moon Queen is chased around the small forested stage, round and round by the feral Sun King. The Queen is cornered and as the Sun King closes in, two figures in black and white appear from the shadows.

“The legendary fighters, skilled with sword and bow: Lee Taeyong, our Queen’s warrior in white. It’s said he was born of a dying star and then raised by the last dragons of this realm—” the children murmur in awe and their narrator smiles—“but he could not have defeated the Sun King on his own. The Queen’s warrior in black, Lee Yongqin. Borne of lighting, forged by the moon, and raised by tigers. He was as deadly as he was beautiful. Together, they were unstoppable.”

The black and white puppets come between the Sun King and the Moon Queen, taking the brunt of the hits as they defend. The Sun King angrily swipes and tries to knock them away, but they’re too fast, dashing around and dealing great damage to him as they do. The children cheer the warriors on until Lee Yongqin lands the final blow, bringing the Sun King to his knees, forced out of his feral state. 

The Moon Queen beheads the Sun King. Some of the children gag and turn away and others murmur in awe. “The war was won, but at a cost—” the puppets collapse where they stand, battered compared to the beginning of the fight—“The injuries they suffered were too great and our warriors and our Queen were laid to rest in a faraway forest where they won our freedom. That is why we must celebrate with our heroes in mind and enjoy the festivities to the fullest.”

The puppeteer stands from behind his mini theater and smiles, waving the children away. “Story’s over. Go to bed, pups. I want all the candles out before I go up there.”

The children whine and get up off the cushions on the floor to trudge sullenly to their rooms. The puppeteer gathers his puppets, folding them delicately away into a case. “I think that was the best performance yet, my Kunnie,” he says to the narrator. “Your voice is perfect for storytelling.”

“Yuta,” Kun sighs, exasperatedly before noticing one pup lingering. “Yangyang, what’s the matter, puppy?”

The eight-year-old pup approaches slowly, scuffing his feet on the old red rug of the candlelit living room. He doesn’t meet the mated couple’s eyes, staring instead down at the floor. “Are they really gone?”

Kun and Yuta exchange a glance, worried for the small pup before Kun pulls him close, hugging him tight. “I’m afraid so, pup.”

“But there could be a chance they survived, right? That my mother survived?” Yangyang looks up at his caretaker with wide eyes.

Kun feels a pang in his chest, staring down at the child of one of his closest friends. He smiles and strokes a gentle hand through Yangyang’s hair, “There could be… so you should try and have as much fun as you can tomorrow. Your feelings will reach him.”

Yangyang nods, that little pout still fixed on his lips despite the tiny flame of hope in his eyes. Yuta joins his mate’s side, ruffling Yangyang’s hair, “Go on, pup. Those moon waffles won’t eat themselves.”

Yangyang swats the adult alpha’s hand away and scurries off. He stops just outside the door, out of sight, and listens. The adults stand from where they are and shuffle around quietly for a moment. He’s about to move away when he hears one soft whisper, “Poor pup…”

Shame burns on his skin and he runs off upstairs as quietly as he can, taking the steps two at a time, skidding around the corner and into the dark hall. Moonlight streams in through each open door, like tiger stripes. He moves in and out of the shadows and dashes into his room at the end of the hall, illuminated by the light falling through his window. He jumps into his bed, the metal frame squeaks under him until he’s comfortable between the sheets.

He lets out a shuddery sigh and turns onto his side, facing the window. The moon seems so large out there, blemishes and all. Maybe the Queen is alive somewhere, with his mother… He pulls a tiny stone-carved tiger charm from a pocket within his robe and holds it up to the light. His initials are carved into the back, blending in with the indented stripes. It’s the only thing he has left from his mother, the warrior, Lee Yongqin. His real name is Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, but  _ that  _ isn’t widely known, nor is it known who fathered him. The only real thing he knows about his father is that he was in the Moon Queen’s army, died shortly after he was born, and, according to Kun and Yuta, passed down his looks to him.

He hugs the tiny charm to his chest, curling his body into it. One day, he’ll find his mother, and then he won’t have to live in this orphanage anymore. 

Someday.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Every year, without fail, the Moon Festival is celebrated on the night of the full moon of the eighth month. Every year, the festivities start as early as dawn and last until the next day. Every year, Yangyang grows more restless. If there were a “Most Aggressive Beta” competition, he’d be sure to win it, or so his boyfriend tells him.

He’s heard the words “bastard orphan” too many times to _not_ do something about it. Like now, for example, he’s got an alpha, one of his old roommates, pinned to the wooden wall of an alleyway. His hands are twisted into the robes over his chest and he knows without looking that the alpha isn’t even touching the ground.

“Wanna say that again? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“Clear your ears out then,” the alpha growls.

Yangyang growls right back, louder, menacingly, shutting the arrogant alpha up. “My ears work fine. It’s cause you were mumbling like a damn mutt, I didn’t understand.”

The alpha glares straight through him, breathing heavily. But Yangyang’s stare is unwavering and the alpha looks away after a few seconds. Yangyang smirks and spins in place, using the momentum to throw the alpha into a pile of crates lying nearby.

The crates break under his weight with a satisfying crash and Yangyang dusts his hands off, turning right around and walking out of the alleyway into the sunlight of late morning. He hears a guttural roar and glances over his shoulder to see the alpha running towards him, nose bloodied, nostrils flaring, carrying his unsheathed sword over his head. Yangyang rolls his eyes and sidesteps from the first swipe of the sword, he ducks under the second.

Their scuffle draws a crowd of onlookers and Yangyang smiles as he keeps gracefully dodging the sword, garnering murmurs of awe from the audience. The alpha growls and grows angrier, his dark blue robes in disarray, hanging off his frame, “Stop moving, you _bastard!!_ ”

Yangyang’s about to deliver a one-liner of his own when the sun is blocked out by a shadow. “Oh, great,” he mumbles and watches as the alpha is disarmed. A taller alpha in dark purple robes and a beige stetson perched on his head, lands in their circle and holds his hand in a twist, making him drop his sword with a whine.

“What’s going on here?” The alpha asks, looking between them.

Yangyang smiles, raises his arms to rest his hands behind his head, “Nothing, officer. Just a little reunion between old roommates.”

The officer arches a brow and looks back down at the younger alpha, seething and nursing his hand. “It is illegal for you to unsheathe your sword in public where bystanders could get hurt. I am ordering you to help that shop owner for the rest of the day. You broke many of his belongings.”

“ _What?!_ It wasn’t me—!” The taller alpha stares him down and after grumbling, inclines his head, “Yes, Officer Jung. Thank you for your discipline.” He stomps off after sheathing his sword.

Yangyang watches him go with a sly smirk and turns around to disappear into the dispersing crowd. He chokes when his collar is grabbed, keeping him in place. He glances up and sighs, letting his arms fall to his side. “What am I in trouble for?”

“Picking a fight,” Officer Jung says simply and lets him go. “Follow.”

Yangyang sighs again and follows behind the officer, “It wasn’t even a fair fight! He’s an alpha and I’m just a little beta. _And_ he has a sword! I could’ve died!”

Officer Jung smiles, his hands folded neatly behind his back. He glances pointedly at the wooden sword tucked into the sash at his waist. “You are armed.”

Yangyang follows his line of sight and grabs the grip of his sword. He mumbles, “This wouldn’t stand a chance against a real sword though.”

“Good morning, Jaehyun sir!” A vendor selling candied fruits smiles and waves as they pass through. Jaehyun smiles and waves back, continuing on through the main street of their village. Some vendors already have their stalls up, others are just barely setting up. People, smiling bright and laughing along with their families, walk to and fro. He doesn’t have to close his eyes to smell the barbecue vendors. The smell of their meats, smoking in their pits, mingles deliciously with the scent of other foods and sweets.

“And yet, you didn’t even draw your only weapon. There’s not a scratch on you. You’d make a great warrior, Yangyang—” and then he lowers his voice just enough for him to hear—“It’s in your blood, after all. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Yangyang eyes widen momentarily before he looks away. Jaehyun notices this and smiles. They remain quiet as they walk into the chief’s grand wooden home. The front doors are always open and the first floor is outfitted to hold a small living and dining area. A desk sits in front of the stairs at the other side, and it’s there where the chief’s second-in-command stays.

The omega glances up when they step in, dusting off their robes and boots, and frowns when he sees them, “Yangyang. Why am I not surprised?”

“Hi, Uncle Doyoung! I figured you missed me and decided to drop in,” Yangyang smiles.

They walk up to the desk. Jaehyun sidles around it to join his mate on the other side. Doyoung shakes his head as Jaehyun leans down to peck his temple softly. “What did you do now?”

“I was just defending myself,” Yangyang sighs, crossing his arms.

“Just like you have every year without fail for the past 12 years,” Doyoung arches a brow, picking up his brush to continue his work in the open scrolls on his desk. “Go on. You know where the chief’s office is.”

Yangyang bows, first to Doyoung, and then to Jaehyun before going up the stairs. He can feel their eyes on him even as he climbs up. Up here, not as much sunlight reaches the inside, making the dark luxurious wood appear darker than it already is. The chief’s office sits straight ahead of the stairs and he knocks softly, stepping in when he hears a gentle, “Come in.”

The chief sits behind his desk, looking over scrolls of bamboo, slats woven together. Sun seeps in from a window overlooking the village, making brighter the light smoke of an incense burner sitting on its own stand beside the desk. The chief’s office always smells of that distinct smoky scent. It smells like a second home to Yangyang.

The chief sets the scroll down and smiles up at him, his honey-brown eyes warm, contrasting with his dark purple, grey, and white accented robes. He glances towards his open window and back at him, “Isn’t it kind of early for this, Yangyang?” He raises a hand, gesturing at the seat across him.

Yangyang shuffles closer and slinks down into the seat, adjusting his faux sword so it lays across his lap. “It’s never early enough for the comments, Chief.”

“The door is closed, little sheep. You don’t have to keep up formalities here.” The chief smiles kindly and reaches for a black pot at the end of his desk, holding the lid and wooden handle steady as he pours out two cups of fragrant semi-clear green tea. He sets the pot down and offers one of the cups to him, the long sleeve of his robe coming up onto the desk. 

Yangyang takes it carefully, murmuring, “Thank you, Johnny.” The chief takes his own cup, flicking his sleeve back off the desk with a practiced ease. They both blow softly at their cups and sip. The jasmine warms his mouth and throat, placates the nerves under his skin. He may be close with Johnny, but he still is _the chief_.

“Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re only just a beta, but I suppose you get that fiery streak from your mother—” the chief chuckles softly, taking another sip of the black earthenware cup—“Ten was truly something…”

Yangyang glances down at his cup at the mention of his mother. He’s grown up hearing countless tales of him. It makes pride swell in his chest with equal parts sorrow. He wishes he had gotten to know him, even a memory of him. He doesn’t even have a fragment of his scent to remember.

“You’re 19 now. Soon, you’ll be 20. Maybe it’s time you ease into building your legacy. Think of the long term. You have many options ahead of you.”

“Well, I’ve been helping out at Xiao's bookshop. They’ve taught me how to put together bamboo slips and I’m pretty good at it.” Yangyang smiles and sets his cup down at the edge of the desk.

Johnny hums noncommittally, “Have you thought of other callings to pursue?”

“I think if things don’t work out at the bookshop, I could always stay with Yuta and Kun, help them run the orphanage. I owe them that much, at least—” he folds his hands together and rubs absentmindedly at a faint scar across the back of his left hand, a straight line barely lighter than the rest of his skin that Kun tended to when he was younger, one of his first fights—“I’m gonna annoy them for as long as I can.”

Johnny laughs heartily, setting his cup down, “Kun will have a full head of silver hair before he even hits 60.”

Yangyang chuckles at the thought of Kun with silver hair and glances up at the chief once again. He looks up to him. In their village’s history, he is the youngest to take the position of leader, but there’s no surprise there. Johnny is as kind and easy-going as he is righteous. Everyone likes him and trusts him to lead their village and protect it all in the same vein. Yangyang respectfully waits for his laughter to die down before the chief appraises him for a moment.

“Yangyang, have you thought of perhaps becoming a warrior? I know Jaehyun and Doyoung would be very eager to train you and help you continue to hone your skills.”

And all he hears is, “Would you like to follow the same path your mother did?” He glances down at his wooden sword. A sword he made himself from a fallen tree he found in the forest just outside the village. It’s dark wood and multiple idents decorate its sides from scuffles he’s had to defend himself in. He’s never been able to afford a real sword.

“I’ve read all your school reports and bore witness to some of your fights. You have the makings of a fighter.”

He glances to the left, the far wall where a portrait sits, a painting depicting the Moon Queen in all her beauty and her two “legendary” fighters. The dragon warrior stands to her left, his mother stands to her right. It’s the only image he has of him, as theatrical as it may seem. Glistening black armored robes and a black cape, feline eyes with sharp blue irises, silver sword in his hand. Johnny follows his gaze to the painting and frowns softly.

“Even if I wanted to do the same as he did, I’m only just an orphan. I don’t have money for the things required of the academy and I don’t want to take Kun and Yuta’s money… but thank you, Chief.”

Johnny opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the door of his office slamming open. “There you are, Yangie! I was looking all over for you!” One of the chief’s sons strides into the office, boisterous even in his regal yellow and white robes.

“Hyuckie, we were talking,” Johnny arches a brow at his adopted son.

Donghyuck smiles, striding right up to Yangyang, resting his forearms on his shoulders to kiss his forehead as Yangyang tilts his head back. “Hi, baby. Is my daddy bothering you again?”

“I’m right here, Hyuckie…”

Yangyang grins and takes hold of Donghyuck’s hands, squeezing them, prompting his boyfriend to stand at his side. “No, we were just talking. I got in trouble again.”

“Hm,” Donghyuck turns his gaze on his father and arches a brow. “Was it about _the_ quest?”

Johnny lowers his cup from his lips and sets it on his desk with a minute stern tilt of his eyebrows. Yangyang’s never seen him with that expression before. His curiosity is instantly piqued. 

“We were talking about his future in the village. He has shown interest in the bookshop and the orphanage.”

Donghyuck squeezes his hand softly, “My Yangie is thoughtful like that. Do you have complaints?”

“No. I think he would do well in either of those.”

“But?”

“But his skills could be put to great use elsewhere,” Johnny runs a hand over the invisible beard on his chin, eliciting a snort from the couple.

“Johnny,” Yangyang starts, “What quest was Donghyuck referring to?”

“Nothing to concern—”

“Like hell, it doesn’t concern him! If you won’t tell him, I will! He deserves more than anyone to know!”

Johnny flinches and gestures for Donghyuck to be quiet. Donghyuck crosses his arms and arches a brow at his father. Johnny sighs and turns his gaze on Yangyang, “Close the door please.”

Yangyang stands, quickly and quietly sliding the door closed before returning to his seat. Donghyuck leans against the edge of his father’s desk like it’s his, and it could be. He knows, despite Donghyuck’s brash behavior, Johnny would drop everything and give everything for his son in a millisecond.

“This kid,” the chief sighs before standing to pace beside his desk. Yangyang watches raptly. “I received a letter a while ago, not too long, of a nation to the west. It was addressed to the entirety of the village and contained many threats of conquering us. I gathered with the other village chiefs and can confirm that they all received the same letter. The sender only signed off as the son of the Sun King, promising to once again bring his father’s empire to its former glory. I sent scouts and they returned with reports of villages to the west being pillaged if not assimilated into the new empire.”

Yangyang quirks a brow, hands fisted in his lap. “Why would you not tell the village of the threat? Why keep it secret? And what does this have to do with me?”

“I didn’t say anything because the threat is a foreign one. It’d take months for any forces to reach here. I didn’t want to worry our people.” Johnny stops in his tracks and turns slowly to face him, heaving a soft sigh. “In the letter, they disclosed having captured someone valuable to the Moon Queen. I’m not sure if they’re referring to Lee Taeyong or to Ten.”

Yangyang’s heart stutters in his chest. He’d long given up on the idea of seeing his mother on this side. To find out he may be alive and being held hostage somewhere…

“I am sending my son on a quest to rescue him and bring him back here. We won’t be able to defeat this new opponent on our own.”

Yangyang breaks eye contact with Johnny to glare down at a spot between his feet. It’s logical of course that Johnny should send his brilliant son. Lee Mark is capable, strong, fast, intelligent, as righteous as his adoptive father. He’s been to the academy and graduated with flying colors. Of course, it’s only logical…

Donghyuck comes close, resting a gentle hand against his back, “I keep trying to tell Daddy dearest here that the one that should be sent is you. It’s _your mother_ after all.”

“Hyuckie, I can’t send someone with no experience out alone like that. It has to be one person that goes so no suspicions arise should they run into enemies.”

“No experience?! Yangyang has fought alphas older and stronger than him. He’s won with just a wooden fucking sword for crying out loud! He is Lee Yongqin’s son! That more than qualifies him for the quest!”

Johnny sighs, rubs at his temples as he sits at his desk again.

“Furthermore, he is a beta and Mark is an alpha. People are more likely to interfere with Mark. They wouldn’t spare Yangyang a second glance even if he were armed to the teeth!”

“I hate that I let you sit in on so many strategy meetings,” Johnny mumbles after a moment.

Donghyuck huffs and Yangyang takes one of his hands, threading their fingers together, “Chief, thank you for telling me, and as much as I’d love to take on this quest, I understand that it is your decision… your call to make.”

Johnny opens his mouth to speak but Yangyang stands and bows towards him, “Thank you for the talk and for the tea, chief.” He turns in place and walks out of the office, Donghyuck sighs softly and gives his father _a look_ before following his boyfriend out.

Downstairs, Jaehyun is nowhere to be seen, Doyoung glances at them as they pass by, notes their expressions, and sets his brush down. “Yangyang.”

The beta stops in his tracks and glances back at him.

“My son just came by to see you. He said he’d be waiting for you at your usual lunch place.”

Yangyang smiles slightly and inclines his head, “Thank you, Uncle Bunny.” 

Donghyuck snickers beside him as Doyoung shakes his head and waves them out. They walk side by side through the scattered crowds, their hands intertwined between them. The sun shines bright at its highest point in the sky. “What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck murmurs.

Yangyang squeezes his hand, smiles when Donghyuck squeezes back. “About… him…” A squadron of kids run past, pulling mini kites along in the shape of dragons, tigers, and the moon. “I… I don’t want to get my hopes up… It could be a trap or it could possibly not even be him, you know, like, Johnny could send whoever and it might just be Lee Taeyong instead of my…” He shakes his head, a frown marring his features.

Donghyuck clasps Yangyang’s hand in both of his, “Wanna know what I think?” Yangyang nods, glancing at him. “I think even if it is the dragon warrior that we find, that it will be a win for us, for you. He may have a clue of what happened to your mom. Doyoung went into the academy with him, he grew up with the dragon warrior. I’ve heard him say Taeyong and your mother were close.”

“Close?”

“Rivals and best friends—” Donghyuck grins—“Supposedly they even shared telepathy!”

At this, Yangyang cracks a smile, “Ducky, you read too many of those fantasy novellas.”

“But you love me for it,” Donghyuck chirps, hugging onto Yangyang’s arm. Their beige and yellow robes contrasting only slightly.

“I guess.” 

Yangyang smiles when Donghyuck narrows his eyes at him. He steals a quick peck from those plump lips and revels in the blinding smile that stretches across Donghyuck’s face. They make their way towards an old wooden building, the yellowed canvas above the entrance reads “BoBo” in faded red brush strokes.

Stepping past the threshold, the smell of brewing tea, sweetened and spicy meats, and pork soup flood their noses and Yangyang would be surprised at how quickly his mouth waters if this weren’t his favorite restaurant. His stomach rumbles in approval. Donghyuck leads the way past tables covered in white cloths to a booth towards the back, sitting beside a window, oxidized around the edges from age alone. No amount of wiping will remove the slight fogging.

It’s there they find their friends, sitting around the white-covered table, some plates and teacups already sitting upon it. Donghyuck moves into the free side of the circular booth, ignoring their friend’s jeers. Yangyang smiles and slides in beside him, taking up the edge of the green-cushioned seat.

“Oh, shush! We’re here now, right?” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

Jaemin, sitting across from him, shakes his head, adjusting his pale pink robes, “You could’ve gotten here sooner. Jeno went by your house nearly 30 minutes ago.”

“It was _not_ that long ago.” Donghyuck nudges Renjun’s side, “How long has it been?”

Renjun folds a short pencil away into the leather binding of the tiny notebook in his palm, he tucks them both into an inner breast pocket of his indigo robes. “It’s been roughly 11 minutes since Jeno returned.”

“See,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes again when Jaemin sticks his tongue out at him.

“We ordered some eel sticks and egg rolls,” Jeno removes the woven bamboo cover off a plate to reveal the appetizers beneath, two of each left for them.

“Have you guys ordered the main dishes already?” Donghyuck asks, watching as Yangyang serves him an eel stick and egg roll, setting both on his ceramic white plate, beginning to yellow with age like the rest of the restaurant, countless light grey scratches on its surface from use, blue stars and crescent moons are painted beautifully around the edge.

“Yes. One plate of bobo chicken, spicy chicken, shrimp fried rice, soup dumplings, a bowl of menudo, and an extra bowl of steamed rice for Yangyangie,” Jaemin lists off, counting on his fingers.

Yangyang smiles, pouring out two cups of hot tea for himself and his boyfriend, “Thank you.”

“So where is my brother?” Donghyuck takes a sip of his tea. “I know you guys didn’t order that menudo for yourselves.”

“Mark said he’d be joining us soon. I told him to meet us here,” Renjun says, watching amused as Yangyang tears into his eel stick, eating the dark, flaky jerky roll in 3 bites before biting the end of his egg roll off to drizzle in soy sauce from the small earthenware bottles at the center of the table.

Jeno chuckles, “He probably got caught up at the training grounds.”

“Well, if he’s not here before the food is, I’m starting without him,” Donghyuck parts his egg roll down the middle, the shredded filling of fried mushroom, cabbage, carrots, bamboo shoots, and green onion spilling out onto his plate. “Jeno, you do realize you have the mother of all chili oil stains right there on your robes, right?”

“Careless,” Jaemin sighs.

Jeno glances down and holds the linen out. “No! It’s your fault, though. You bumped my arm!” The stain is dark against his dark purple robe, matching with his father’s. He sighs, “They’re gonna make me pay to clean it from my allowance.”

“It’s not like you spend the money on anything but courting gifts anyway,” Renjun teases, chuckling when Jaemin’s cheeks turn faintly pink.

Said omega clears his throat and looks towards Yangyang, “So I heard Dejun is pregnant again. Is that true?”

“Yep. He’s five months along.”

Jaemin smiles, sucking in a breath between his teeth, “Wow. He’s so strong.”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” Donghyuck snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. “How many pups do they have now?”

“With the one in the oven now, I think 12 pups,” Yangyang says simply.

Jaemin and Donghyuck whistle while Jeno chuckles into his tea, “They could start their own village with that many pups.”

Yangyang smiles, the image of Guanheng and Dejun, standing alongside all of their pups aged 12 through 6, brings warmth to his chest. He knows the couple only started their family when they were 25, when their bookshop became a secure source of income for them. They built their shop from the ground up.

“What’s your opinion on this matter, Renjunie, as a beta?” Jaemin smiles.

“I think that’s their business. As long as they love their pups and they love each other, that’s all that matters,” Renjun pours himself more tea.

“Hm—” Donghyuck leans into Yangyang’s side, looking up at him—“I refuse to let you keep me pregnant like that. We’re only having one. Three at most.”

Yangyang smiles, pressing a kiss to Donghyuck’s temple. “That’s fine by me, my sun pearl.” The couple grins when their friends start retching and covering their eyes.

“Sun pearl?!” Jeno cries.

Renjun scoots away from Donghyuck, “You guys are actually so gross.”

But, of course, because Donghyuck is Donghyuck, he rubs it in, skimming fingertips against Yangyang’s adam’s apple, trailing down towards his chest. “Remember that time in the closet?” He murmurs huskily.

Yangyang smiles, wrapping an arm around Donghyuck’s waist, pulling him in closer, playing along, “Yeah. There was a tornado and we couldn’t make it to any of the storm cellars.”

“The wind was howling and the rain was pounding against the building. No one could hear me screaming your name,” Donghyuck whispers just loud enough for everyone at their table to hear.

“Stand back, I think I’m gonna vomit!” Renjun holds his hands over his mouth as he doubles over. Jeno’s face is permanently in a grimace.

Jaemin raises a butter knife threateningly, “Hyuck, I am begging you to shut your mouth. Literally no one asked for your nasty stories.”

Donghyuck presses a hand to his chest, offended, pulling away from a laughing Yangyang, “It’s not nasty, it’s love! And why are you only threatening me?! There’s two of us here!”

“Yangyang is an angel. _You_ corrupted him!” Jaemin lowers his knife.

“Me?! More like _he_ corrupted me!” Donghyuck crosses his arms. “Damn! Can’t an omega get a break around here?”

“Uh, what are you guys yelling about?”

They all look over to see Donghyuck’s adopted older brother standing beside the table, back straight, shoulders squared, dressed in grey and white robes, a black stetson sitting on his head. Jeno grins and scoots over, letting their friend sit.

“Finally, you’re here! Please, Mark, make your brother shut up before Jaemin guts him,” Renjun pleads.

Mark quirks a brow, settling into the spot beside Jeno, right across from Yangyang. “What’s he saying now?”

“You really don’t want to know,” Jaemin mutters, shuddering.

Donghyuck starts bantering with his brother and then the food is brought. Yangyang hears himself thank the server that brings out their many plates and watches his hands move of their own accord, piling his plate with bobo chicken and steamed rice. The sight of Mark—his easy-going, slightly-more mature presence—reminds him of the talk he had with Johnny, of the news of the possibility of his mother being alive.

If his mother is alive… If he’s somewhere out there… Will they find him in one piece? Sane? In good health?

Ever since he was little. Ever since he was told that the mother that gave birth to him and nursed him was the very same person as the warrior hero from the Moon Queen stories, he’s had dreams. Dreams of his mother strolling into their village, donning his black robes, his gleaming silver sword carried over his shoulder, like a badass as he comes back for him, for Yangyang. His mother would smile and pat him on the cheek affectionately and say how proud he is, how big he’s grown. They’d settle into ordinary life.

Every morning, he’d go out and bring water from the water hole before dawn. He’d start on making their breakfast rice bowls and making sure his mother’s robes are ready and clean to wear. They’d sit together on the porch, watching the sunrise through the trees while they eat. And then, they’d go their separate ways to work. They’d reunite for lunch. Yangyang would show him all the good dishes at BoBo and the best vendors around the village. Then on their free days, his mother would take him out to a hidden plain in the forest and show him all his sword techniques.

And Yangyang would introduce him to Donghyuck. And then he’d ask how he met his father and what kind of alpha he was. And things would be normal.

Normal…

Things would be different.

He tries not to think of those dreams. He’d given up hope on those dreams. Replaced them with a different family, different members. His caretakers, Kun and Yuta, raised him, played with him, and soothed nightmares from his childhood. Yuta taught him how to brawl should he ever find himself in a tight spot, how to throw a punch, where to hit so he can defend himself and others from alpha’s quick tempers. Kun taught him how to be kind and stand for justice, the difference between right and wrong.

His friends, Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, Mark, are all like brothers to him. He’d be the first to push them over into a puddle and the first to throw a punch if anyone so much as looks at them the wrong way. His guardians, in some form or other, Jaehyun and Doyoung, were always there to put stops to any scuffles he’d gotten into, always dealing him different punishments (mostly on Doyoung’s part) that he’s now grateful for. 

One summer, after an especially bad fight, Doyoung assigned him to clean the swords used by the warriors-in-training at the academy every afternoon. He nicked his fingers so many times, but it taught him how to handle a sword, how the weight should feel in his hand. He made his own wooden sword that year.

And then, his gate to the past, his mentor and friend, Johnny, the smiling giant of a chief. The best friend of his mother. The alpha that stood by his mother’s side through all his hardships, privy to his secrets and thoughts and feelings. It was Johnny that really separated fact from fiction. There’s one story of his mother having gotten his sword made of dragon scales. He knows those ancient beings exist, but for his mother to have met one was truly something to brag about. It was true to a certain degree, anyway.

His mother happened upon an old blind beta on one of his travels with the Moon Queen’s army. The troops ignored her as they passed on that desert path, but his mother stopped to tend to her wounds and give her all the food and water he had on him. As it turns out, the beta was one of the first persons to perfect the art of sword craftsmanship and to repay his mother’s kindness, forged a sword unbreakable for him, pure enough to reflect the soul of those who stare into the blade.

He’s brought back to the present by silk rubbing against his cheek. He blinks a few times, his half-eaten plate sits before him, his friends look to him with differing levels of concern written in their features. Donghyuck is at his side, blotting his cheeks with the sleeve of his robe.

“Yangie, are you ok?” his boyfriend murmurs.

Yangyang nods, swallowing around the sudden ball in his throat.

“But you’re crying,” Mark says and then quickly shuts up when Donghyuck shoots him a glare.

Yangyang sniffles and rubs away the tear running down his cheek before smiling, “Sorry. I just… This food is just _that_ good. Like so good you could cry.”

Renjun rolls his eyes good-naturedly, Jaemin shakes his head, and Jeno simply smiles and returns to devouring his share of food. Mark continues to look at him like a puppy who just got his favorite toy taken away, wide eyes and pouting lips.

Yangyang ignores his stare in favor of turning to Donghyuck, taking hold of his hand to kiss his palm and his knuckles. His boyfriend also doesn’t look convinced, more cross than anything, but he can tell it’s not directed at him. “I’m fine, Ducky,” he whispers.

“Sure.” Donghyuck pats his cheek once and turns away, back to messing with their friends and his brother. Yangyang sighs softly and returns his attention to his plate, less eagerly finishing what’s left. Whatever is on Donghyuck’s mind really has him pissed off.

They all pitch in to pay for the lunch and then part ways, promising to meet later for the night festivities. Yangyang watches his friends go and then turns in the direction of the bookshop, slipping through alleyways to get to his destination. Most are empty. The Moon festival is one of the most important celebrations in their village. Almost nobody works on that day except for those peddling their goods for the festival.

The bookshop sits alongside two stores, one that sells fabrics for robes, bolts of different colors and textures sit on display behind windows, the other sells miscellaneous items, fish tack, hooks, rods, metal pots big enough to fit a small child or two, canvases, any random item you could possibly think of. Unlike the other two shops, the Xiao’s store stands two stories tall and even has a basement.

He steps onto the creaking porch and passes through the doorway, immediately greeted by the faint smell of dust and bamboo. Sun shines through the windows onto the white wooden floors, lighting the room naturally. Books bound together with twine and bamboo slips wrapped with woven strips of linen line the shelves standing on the far and right wall. The clerk desk sits to the left, his workstation sits behind it along with the staircase leading up to the second floor.

“Yangyang, I didn’t think you’d come by today,” Dejun, in his beige robes, sits behind the desk, an open book beneath his hands.

“And not see my favorite omega?” Yangyang grins, approaching the desk as Dejun chuckles and swats a hand in his direction.

“I’m going to tell Donghyuck what you said.”

Yangyang smiles and leans against the desk, “How are you feeling? Is ankle-biter number 12 giving you any trouble today?”

“They’ve been craving sweet foods—” Dejun smiles fondly down at his growing pup bump, closing his book before resting his hands on it—“so it’s just my luck the Moon Festival is today. I wanted to go already, but Guanheng’s having a little trouble getting all the kids ready upstairs.”

Yangyang glances up at the ceiling, “Pretty quiet. You sure they didn’t just fall asleep?”

“No. It was loud a few minutes ago. I think he’s telling them one of his stories,” Dejun sighs softly and smiles. Despite rearing 11 pups and one rowdy husband, the wrinkles and gray hair that would accompany such undertakings have not been able to affect Dejun in the slightest. He often wonders if it’s genetics that help him look no older than 25 or if his kind soul keeps him young and pretty.

Yangyang smiles, “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“Not yet. We might just have one figured out when they’re due like the past four times.”

There’s a yelp upstairs and then the roaring laughter of children, pitter-pattering of feet sound across the floor like a stampede above. Dejun glances over his shoulder towards the stairs and shakes his head, “I might have to go up there and help him.”

“Before you do—” Yangyang reaches into his robes for a pocket he sewed in along his waist able to fit bulky items without them sticking out, he draws out three purple little fruits—“I got up early today and climbed nearly 30 feet to get these plums for you and the baby.” Dejun’s eyes go wide as Yangyang presses the purple near black fruits into his hands. “They’re ripe. The darkest I could find so they’re really sweet.”

Dejun tucks the plums away into his robes, probably alongside his pup bump if the shudder that runs along his spine is any indicator. “Yangyang… I—”

“Dejun! My love!”

Guanheng comes down the stairs, his pups stampeding around him down the steps in their festive blue and black robes. If Yangyang were anyone else, he’d be terrified at the sudden influx of puppies. The youngest of the pups immediately gravitate towards their mother, the older ones unlatch the small door keeping the main floor separate from the clerk’s side. They come right up to him like bees to sugar.

“Yangyang!”

“Cousin!”

“Are you ready for the festival?!”

“Will you tell us more stories?!”

“Do you have new stories of your mother?!”

“Can I hold your sword?!”

Yangyang smiles down at the pups, his hand automatically resting on the grip of his sword. “That’s a no on the sword, kid. Remember what happened last time?”

“But that was an accident!” The pup whines.

“Calling your brother the Sun King and then hitting him on the head isn’t an accident.”

Yangyang glances over at their parents and immediately turns away. They’re doing _it_ again and by _it_ he means staring into each other’s eyes as if they’re in a lovesick trance. He sighs and turns back to the pups, still excitedly calling him cousin.

“Of course, I’ve got more stories! My mother did a lot of things!” Yangyang pounds a fist against his chest. “I’m the son of Lee Yongqin! I’m the best person to ask, duh!”

The pups giggle at his theatrics and cling to his sides as Guanheng and Dejun gather the younger ones before herding them all out the door. Guanheng locks up the shop and then with one pup on his shoulders, another holding onto his left hand, Dejun on his right, they start down the dirt path towards the main village road.

“Ok, this one is about the time my mother fought off five alphas _while blindfolded!_ ”

The pups gasp and cry, “That’s impossible! He didn’t do that!”

“Yes, he did! Nothing is impossible for the warrior in black!”

“How’d he do it?”

“Well if you hadn’t interrupted me, you’d know already.”

They whine in annoyance, pushing him to start the tale. Yangyang grins and pulls away from their grubby hands to walk ahead of them, backwards so he has their attention.

“My mother is a great warrior, so he likes meditating, you know? All great warriors meditate, that’s a fact.”

One of the smaller pups quirks a brow and sneers, “You don’t meditate, cousin.”

Yangyang smirks, “I meant super awesome warriors like my mom. I’m just a real tough person.”

“Continue the story already!”

“Ok, ok! Geezuz, you kids… Anyway, he’s meditating and since he’s an omega, some alpha thugs thought they could get the drop on him.”

A pup raises their arm, “What does ‘get the drop on him’ mean?”

“It means to take someone by surprise. They sneaked up on my mother and managed to get the blindfold on him, but what they didn’t know is that he always had his sword with him! So that alpha that blinded him lost his arms in a blink of an eye!” Yangyang draws his sword, holding it blade down as he turns in place pretending to chop off the alpha’s arms with one swipe, posing like his mother would have. He smiles when the pups gasp in awe.

“The alphas were so shocked. They stepped away, but they weren’t going to give up. They wanted to avenge their friend’s arms. But my mother stood there with a smile on his face and he said: Leave now unless you want to lose more than that.”

The pups follow with wide eyes as Yangyang makes his voice heroic-sounding. He doesn’t know what his mother’s voice sounds like, but it had to be deep and strong, right?

“The alphas laughed at him and surrounded him. The first one made his move—” Yangyang skids out of the way of an invisible attacker, dust flying under his feet—“And then the second did, aiding his friend.” He dodges out of the way of another and pretends to fend off sword attacks, twisting and turning, fake grimaces and grunts and everything.

“And then the other two came onto him, until he was fighting four people off with his one sword and his vision blocked.” Yangyang dashes and jumps out of the way of invisible assailants. All 11 of the pups watch on with wide eyes and shrieks of excitement.

“Watch out! Behind you, tiger warrior!” One of the pup’s cries, pointing at an invisible enemy. Yangyang turns around, blocking the attack and striking back with a war cry. He looks at the pup with his eyes closed and smiles, “Thank you!”

The pup smiles wide and then the rest of them start pointing out attackers until Yangyang has laid slain to them all, huffing and sweating lightly. “Did I get them all?” He still has his eyes closed and directs the question towards the pups.

The pup’s thunderous applause and cheers answer him, and he grins, tucking his sword away as he finally opens his eyes. The sun is beginning its descent past the trees and through his little play, they walked all the way to the main road, where the celebration is beginning. Many other people walk around them. The soft moon lanterns along the street are being lit. 

He bows towards them, “Thank you, thank you!”

“Tell us another one! Please!”

“Sorry, my lil cousins, one story a day, you know the rules!”

The pups whine as Yangyang walks over to their parents. Dejun smiles and pats his cheek, “Thank you for entertaining them on the way here.”

“Yeah, man!” Guangheng grins. “You’re getting better at the storytelling. I was about to join in and point out more enemies.”

Yangyang chuckles, “Sure, you were. Do you guys want me to stick around?”

“No—” Dejun shakes his head, leaning his head on Guangheng’s shoulder—“You go ahead and enjoy the festival. We'll be fine.”

“You sure?”

Guanheng smiles and nods, “Go spend time with that little boyfriend of yours.”

Yangyang blushes slightly and nods, “Ok. Bye. Bye, cousins!” He turns and waves to them as he walks off.

“Bye, Yangyang!”

“Bye, cousin!”

The pups shriek goodbyes until Yangyang has disappeared into the crowds, slipping through to find his friends. The sun has tucked away when Yangyang finally finds one of them. The full moon shines above, lighting the paths, complemented by the moon lanterns.

“Nana!”

Jaemin looks over from where he’s standing beside a lantern post. He smiles and waves as Yangyang comes running closer. “Yo.”

“Where everybody at?”

“They went with Mark to look at some paper fans—” Jaemin looks him up and down, scrutinizing his robes—“Were you fighting again?”

“Yep! Four alphas.” Jaemin’s eyes go wide and Yangyang cackles. “You should’ve seen it. It was legendary. Anyway, have you seen Hyuck?”

Jaemin shakes his head and pats him down, removing the dust on his robes. “Nope. You really gotta stop fighting, Yangyang. What if you run into a feral alpha? What are you gonna do then?”

Yangyang smacks his hands away, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me. If it ever comes to that, I’ll probably just die. No biggie.”

“That’s not funny, Yangyang,” Jaemin glares at him.

“It’s the truth… Anyway, mother probably wouldn’t want a kid that doesn’t stand up for himself.”

Jaemin looks at him with something like pity and melancholy, before sighing and looking elsewhere. “Sure.”

Renjun, Jeno, and Mark come running, saving them from the awkward silence that would’ve followed. Mark has a paper fan in hand with a beautifully painted ink wash tiger. “Look! Cool, right?”

Yangyang smiles and nods, “Looks like you.”

Mark’s cheeks turn pink and he sputters, grinning as he laughs, “What? No!”

“Yes! Like my mother—” Yangyang places a hand on Mark’s shoulder—“We’re the next generation, you know. You’re our generation’s Lee Yongqin.”

Mark gapes around a smile, looking to the rest of their friends. Jaemin shakes his head, “Yangyang, how can you say that when our Markie literally looks like a lion cub?”

“A cute little lion cub, right, Mark?” Renjun grins and hooks an arm around Mark’s shoulders.

Jeno laughs at Mark’s expression, humored exasperation. Mark shakes his head and shrugs Renjun off to bump shoulders with Yangyang, “If I’m our generation’s Lee Yongqin, then you’re Lee Taeyong.”

“Yeah, right! I’m not like him,” Yangyang scoffs, pushing Mark back.

“You look a little like him,” Jeno mumbles.

“Why you lying?!” Jaemin snatches away Mark’s paper fan to fan himself in quick fluttery motions. “That alpha was the stuff of dreams! I don’t care if he was kind of omega-ish pretty, I’d let him—” he nods seriously—“you know?”

Renjun laughs aloud as Jeno pales beside him. Mark grimaces and takes his paper fan back, “Dude! What?! He’s dead! And probably like 20 years older than you!”

Yangyang has joined Renjun on the floor, laughing so hard they’re clutching their stomachs and wheezing and crying. Jaemin glares down at them, indignant. “Well, if he _was_ still around—” he looks at Mark—“I’d happily make a fan club for him and name myself leader.”

“No dice,” Yangyang sighs, wiping his tears away and catching his breath as he stands, leaning on Renjun. “Kun’s son _loooooooves_ him. Obsessed with him! He knows pretty much every story there is about Lee Taeyong.”

Renjun exhales and grins, patting his robes clean of dirt, “Really? Little Chenle?”

“He’s only a year younger than us,” Yangyang says, crossing his arms. “He’s already betrothed too.”

“Whaaaaaat? Already?” Mark’s jaw goes slack.

“Yeah, to this alpha named Park Jisung from that village by the river,” Jaemin nods, gesturing to the east.

“How do _you_ know?” Yangyang quirks a brow.

“I’m literally friends with one of the biggest gossips in the village, duh.”

“Really? Who?”

“Right. Of course,” Renjun shakes his head as Mark tries breaking Jeno out of his paled stupor. “He’s talking about your boyfriend.” Renjun nudges his shoulder against Yangyang’s.

“Oh… Where is he anyway?” Yangyang turns to look through the throngs of people on the road.

Mark chuckles, “He’s probably still getting ready.”

Yangyang frowns and tries not to think about how upset Donghyuck was earlier. He focuses on how Renjun and Jaemin are teasing Jeno all while Mark laughs at them, but his worries get the best of him. What if some of Donghyuck’s anger _was_ directed at him? He wonders what he could have done and then if some sweets and a lengthy apology will make up for it.

“Hey, hey!”

They all whip around to the source of the familiar yelling. Donghyuck, in black robes, comes striding up to them. Smiling wide, eyes crinkled with mirth, a complete 180 from his mood earlier. Yangyang can’t help the nearly idiotic smile that finds its home on his face when Donghyuck comes straight to him, tucking into his side like a magnet.

“What are we doing standing around here for?” Donghyuck whines, wrapping an arm snug around Yangyang’s waist as one of his arms comes over his shoulders.

“Waiting for you!” Renjun shakes his head with a grin.

Jeno sputters as Jaemin links their arms together and nods towards the vendors, “Let’s go eat then. I’m starving!”

Their sextet moves through the crowds. The quick, plucky strums of a three-string guitar, the rapid intonations of flutes, and rhythmic thumps of a drum fill the main road, songs played for the Moon Queen, to honor and celebrate her memory. They pig out, stuffing their faces with barbecued goods. Pork and fowl in so many styles and cuts, it’s dizzying. One turkey leg here, a basket of pulled pork buns there.

Yangyang shares churros and candy apples with Donghyuck. By the time the main event of the festival comes around, they have a moon waffle and stardust lemonade to share. Every year, the village puts on a grand play, reenacting the stories of the Moon Queen and her two fighters. They find most of the benches before the stage taken up until Mark points out a few seats nearing the edge of the middle.

The lanterns are dimmed and the crowd falls hush as the music begins. Yangyang sips his lemonade, the sugar settled at the bottom—the “stardust”—only makes it that much sweeter. Donghyuck, having already started on their shared waffle, offers it to Yangyang, holding the wax paper away. Yangyang leans over and takes a bite of the rectangular waffle, topped with powdered sugar, whipped cream, and strawberry slices. He notices Donghyuck eyeing him with a weird expression, face blank.

“Do I have something on me?” He mouths. Below, the play has started, explaining the origins of their heroes.

Donghyuck shakes his head no with the tiniest of smiles and hands the waffle to him, exchanging for the lemonade. Yangyang quirks a brow but looks down towards the stage anyway, eating the rest of the waffle as Donghyuck quietly sips the lemonade beside him. The actors portraying them on the stage do a pretty good job. Choreographed fights, amazing one-liners, plus the actors playing the Moon Queen and his mother could pass as them.

At one point while Lee Taeyong is vowing his loyalty to the Moon Queen, he feels his boyfriend’s lips on his ear and it’s distracting enough that he misses the Moon Queen’s speech about needing two warriors. Donghyuck leans his full weight on him and wraps his arms around his waist. Yangyang thinks nothing of it, pulling him in close and trying to refocus on the play.

The hand on his thigh slowly inching up towards his groin has other plans though and Yangyang is weak, so weak. He welcomes the touch, spreading his legs just a little more— The full moon is out! People could turn around and see!

He grabs Donghyuck’s hand before it can go higher and turns to his boyfriend. He is not expecting a pout to meet him. His heart catches in his throat.

Donghyuck leans close to whisper in his ear, “We’ve seen this play a hundred times. I’ll show you something more interesting.”

And Yangyang is not one to refuse.

  
  


Tuckered out, panting, and sweating as he stares up at the brick ceiling of his room, Donghyuck pressed into his side on the little twin bed is where he finds himself after a little less than an hour. The room is dark save for what little moonlight shines in from a small window on the opposite wall. 

Most of the orphans usually move out to their own places when they reach 18. Not Yangyang though. He moved out of his childhood room from upstairs to one just behind the building, connected to the rest of the orphanage by the kitchen and heating room. 

He’s in charge of loading the furnace with coals and wood, and making sure the pipes leading to the showers are cleared and working. Kun and Yuta are big on making the orphanage as comfortable as they can make it. The furnace room sits right next to his, the entrance blocked only by two thin drapes. Through the furnace room is the kitchen, so one can imagine Yangyang doesn’t really get any quiet time.

When they catch their breaths, Donghyuck curls closer, throwing a leg over his thighs, an arm over his chest, resting his head on his shoulder. Yangyang smiles even though his arm is being squished.

“What’s on your mind?” Donghyuck mumbles into his collarbone.

“You—” Yangyang smirks, manages to get his arm out from under his boyfriend to rest his hand against the small of his bare back—“How perfect you are.” He knows Donghyuck rolls his eyes without even looking.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

Yangyang skims his fingers against his skin, tracing out random patterns. Donghyuck quiets for a moment, his soft breaths against his shoulder the only indicator that he hasn’t drifted off to sleep. Crickets chirp outside in the dark of night.

“What… would you say to your mother? You know… if he’s still alive.”

The question takes him by surprise. Donghyuck is the person he confides with everything, but Yangyang doesn’t really take to talking freely about his mother with anyone but Johnny and Kun, and even then it’s always stories of his rise to fame. He’s afraid to admit how much his absence affects him.

“I don’t know,” he breathes softly. “I don’t know if he’d even recognize me.”

“A mother always recognizes their pups,” Donghyuck chides and presses a soft kiss to his neck, eliciting goosebumps. “He’d know you.” 

Yangyang snorts softly and buries his nose in Donghyuck’s hair, inhaling his scent of sweet red beans.

“I’m serious… I bet he’d be really happy to see you.”

“I hope so.”

“Yangie—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it… Please, Ducky…”

Donghyuck huffs, but relents and presses another kiss to his chin, “We’re talking about this later.”

“Ok, baby,” Yangyang purrs and pulls the covers up so they rest over Donghyuck’s shoulders. He closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing, waiting for it to slow before following him into sleep.

The tiger charm he always carries with him sits on his wardrobe, watching him with its round unblinking beady black eyes.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What we think? :)  
> Updating weekly
> 
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> ask me anything :)


	3. Chapter 3

Something pats away at his cheek. It takes his consciousness many moments to pull itself out of murky sleep.

“Yangyang, wake up.”

He squints his eyes open slowly, the hand that was patting his cheek moves away. Yuta stands beside his bed in his sage green robes.

“You awake?” 

Yuta makes to pull the covers away and Yangyang grabs them before he can, keeping them on his lap as he sits up. Eyes darting around the room in a frenzy. Almost no light comes through his window, it must be nearing dawn. Donghyuck is no longer in bed with him, his clothes no longer hastily thrown on the floor.

“Get dressed. The chief is asking for you.” Yuta smirks down at him and turns to leave. He doesn’t make a comment about the stink of his room. One whiff and it’s clear what he’d been up to last night.

Yangyang waits for him to leave before sighing aloud and flopping back into the bed. He wracks his brain, trying to think of why Johnny needs him so early. He’s never had a problem with him and Donghyuck being together. It seems odd he’d have a problem with it now after almost two years.

He gets up, pulling out a change of clean robes from his wardrobe. Briefs, inner robe, loose trousers, outer robe, boots. He ties the leather sash around his waist and grabs his tiger charm, tucking it into an inner pocket. He flings the window open so his room can air out and tucks his sword into its own loop on his sash before walking out.

Yuta is already moving around the kitchen, chopping up chicken as Kun stands near the sink, rinsing rice down in a bowl. They both look over when he walks in. Kun wrings his hands dry on a rag and nods towards the small table in the corner, “Come and eat. You have to go in a few minutes.”

Yangyang sits at the wooden table before a bowl of steaming warm rice, fried eggs, ham, and a cup of green tea. Rubbing sleep dust out of his eyes, he glances towards Yuta, who steps out of the room. Kun has come around behind him, taking a small comb to his hair, even though it only comes down to his cheekbone.

“What’s going on?”

“Eat and I’ll explain.” Kun doesn’t say anything else until he’s halfway through his breakfast, stuffing down rice and egg. “The chief asked for you last night. He asked us to wake you up before the sun, feed you nice and good—” Kun lets out a shuddery sigh and stops combing his hair when he’s satisfied, turning the small bit over in his hands—“and then send you to him.”

Yuta returns with a sling bag, setting it on the table, “I packed you an extra change of clothes, a pot, some rice, some water, and uh… some chopsticks! Yeah.”

Yangyang quirks a brow and gulps down the last bite of rice, “Packed? Where am I going?”

“You haven’t told him?” Yuta looks to Kun, who looks like he might be on the verge of tears. Kun shakes his head no and passes the bag to Yangyang as he stands, helping slide it on.

“Haven’t told me what?”

Kun and Yuta quietly lead him towards the front doors, through the cafeteria and the hall leading to all the rooms. Outside, it’s chilly with autumn air. The world is grey and purple, yet to wake up.

“Kun?” Yangyang turns to his caretakers with quirked brows, trying not to shiver where they stand on the front steps of the orphanage.

Yuta smiles and presses a reassuring kiss to his mate’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Kun sighs softly and hugs Yangyang tight, “Johnny will explain everything to you… I love you, pup. You have to return safe to us, ok?”

Yangyang hugs back, bewildered, meeting Yuta’s smiling eyes over his shoulder. “Return safe?”

Kun steps away to allow Yuta close, who also pulls him into a warm hug. “Just go along with it,” he murmurs in his ear. Yangyang blinks a few times as Yuta presses a woven bamboo wallet into his hand. “Try not to waste it, ok?”

Yangyang tucks the wallet into the inner pocket beside his tiger charm. Kun and Yuta stand side by side in the doorway, a bittersweet glint in their eyes. “You go on now, pup. We’ll be here. Try not to cause too much trouble,” Kun says, though Yangyang can hear the fondness under the annoyed tone.

“I’ll come back,” is all he can manage to say as he turns down the road, towards the chief’s house. He looks back over his shoulder once. Yuta and Kun still stand there, watching him leave.

The doors to Johnny’s house are open as they almost always are. A small lantern hangs over the porch, lighting his path as he steps through into the open area. It almost seems deserted, small couches and tables sitting in the dark, Doyoung’s desk, tidy and clean, guards the stairs to the second floor. Yangyang used to think it odd that the chief just leaves the house open like this, undefended from any thieves or enemies. It wasn’t till he saw Johnny take down a whole group of bandits nearly single-handedly without breaking a sweat that he realized, anyone entering the house with malicious intentions is a complete and utter fool.

He sees the small flicker of a candle from under the door of the Chief’s office and raises a hand to knock, but it slides open before he can even try. Johnny stands on the other side, dressed into his robes, smiling even this early.

“You called for me?”

The chief nods and leads him in, closing the door quietly. “Have you eaten?” He asks instead. Yangyang nods, watching as the chief moves back to his desk, gesturing him over.

Laid out is a map of their realm. Their village sits southeast. Numerous other villages dot the map alongside rivers, mountains, plains. Johnny points at a village nestled between two mountains northwest. 

“Scouts were able to pinpoint the prison where either Lee Taeyong or Ten may be held—” Yangyang visibly bristles but Johnny continues—“The village is a brick-making community. The smoke will be a dead giveaway. The fortress is just past it at the crook where the two mountains meet. If you’re able to get them out, there’s a secret path. A ravine through the left one with enough cover to put space between you and any pursuers. You should check your escape routes before attempting to break them out, ok?”

Yangyang shakes his head and blinks up at Johnny, bewildered, “Why— I thought you were sending Mark. I— Why would you choose to send me instead?”

Johnny smiles down at him and leans down to blow out the candle on his desk. Through the window, early morning light spills in. The sun already peeking over the horizon somewhere in the distance. The sky turns less grey. He walks over to the window, Yangyang follows after him.

“Donghyuck is the reason. Ever since he was little, he’s always had a knack for strategy—” Johnny smiles fondly, crossing his arms as he stares out at the village, beginning to wake up slowly but surely—“We argued for hours yesterday, but all his reasonings won out. I’m scared to send you out on your own, but my baby trusts you so I will too.” Johnny turns back to him with a smirk. “That’s my fault. I mean, imagine a group of warrior strategists sitting around the war table and a little omega pup seated in the lap of the chief, asking as many questions as he likes and making up his own theories.”

Fondness and love ache in his chest at the mention of his boyfriend and Yangyang smiles, “Yeah… that sounds like Donghyuck alright.”

Johnny nods and moves back to the desk, rolling up the scroll and handing it to him, “You’ll head towards the village, no long ways. Time is important. The sooner you find them and return, the better. The Sun Prince has stopped his rampage, but we don’t know how long it’ll be before he starts again. It’s all a matter of time.”

Yangyang nods, tucking away the map in his bag as Johnny moves once again, striding over to where his mother’s portrait sits. “Do you think the Moon Queen has some hidden heir too?”

Johnny shakes his head no as he takes the painting down, revealing a cut out in the wall behind it. An old iron chest sits in the hole. He pulls it out and sets it on the floor, kneeling before it. “The Moon Queen lived for her people. She lived for justice. She didn’t want to risk anyone’s lives by settling down.”

Yangyang stares wide-eyed at the old chest. Johnny undoes the lock and sets it aside before slowly opening it. He expects there to be shining treasures but only old and moth-eaten silk fills it. Johnny reaches past the silks and draws out a sword in a sleek black scabbard, silver guard, and a black grip. The chief, still kneeling by the old chest, turns to him, offering him the sword laid out on both hands.

“I was going to wait until you married Hyuckie, but this—” he clears his throat, smiling despite the twinkle in his eyes—“You need it now.”

Yangyang quirks a brow, cheeks tinting pink at the prospect of marrying his boyfriend, and takes the sword, “Did you make this for me?”

Johnny chuckles and stands, “No… Ha… No… Ten… Your mother left it for you.”

And then Yangyang very nearly almost drops the sword like he’s been burnt. He looks up at Johnny with wide-eyes and back down at the sword— _his mother’s sword!_

“He wanted you to have it if for some reason he wasn’t able to return…”

“You mean… He went into that last battle without—”

Johnny nods, sadness in his smile. “It’s yours now, little sheep. For the village’s sake… and for yours, I hope you find him.”

Yangyang stares down at the sword in his hands. It’s not as heavy as he thought it would be, but the brunt of the meaning behind it could very well weigh him down. He holds the scabbard tight in his right hand and the grip in his left, slowly drawing the sword out. And there it is, the shining silver blade of legend, staring back at him.

“I’m sending you with some supplies. You are a traveler, sight-seeing before you settle down. No one should give you any trouble and if they do, well, you can take care of yourself. Just try not to stand out too much, understand?”

Yangyang slides the sword back into its sheath with a click and nods. He removes his wooden sword, replacing it with his mother’s. Johnny takes the faux weapon and places it on a holder on the wall alongside other very real swords. “How long do I have?” He asks as they descend the stairs and head towards the back of the house where a small stall waits.

The sun continues rising, offering more light though it has yet to surpass the trees. Mark is in the stall, loading a saddle and two bags onto a mule. He smiles when he sees them. Johnny opens the gate and Mark leads the animal out by the reins. “It should take you three days to reach the fortress if you only travel by daylight.”

“Which is ideal. Leon is a good steed—” Mark says, petting the mule’s face—“but he gets tired too. Give him an apple though and he’ll work extra hard.” Mark hands the reins off to Yangyang, who smiles when Leon presses his soft nose to his arm, snorting against him.

“I’ll take good care of him.”

Johnny passes him a compass and a signal gun. Yangyang puts them both in his bag. “We have allies in enemy territory. Use the flare only when absolutely necessary.”

“One shot, one kill?” Yangyang smiles.

Johnny nods. “You best be on your way now. May the Moon Queen light your path.”

Yangyang bows, “I’ll bring them back.”

Johnny smiles and pats his shoulder before going back into his home. Mark stands there with a small smile, “Come on. I’ll show you out.”

Yangyang nods and follows along beside Mark as they walk towards the north village entrance. Few people already have their stores open, lanterns lighting their front doors. Mothers are awake and sweeping their porches. Smoke rises from chimneys all through the village. They walk side by side in silence, dirt and rocks scurrying from under their boots.

They stop at the village gate, a round stone archway leading to the rest of the world. Sunlight streams through the surrounding forest, their shadows cast to the left.

“Will you say goodbye to everyone for me? To Donghyuck?”

“I will,” Mark smiles and nods, turning to face him. “Don’t take too long out there. I don’t think I can deal with his missing you, you know.”

Yangyang smiles, glances down at Leon between them, his ears swiveling about. “And… I hope there’s no hard feelings—”

“What? No! No… Like—” Mark chuckles and claps a hand over Yangyang’s shoulder—“I was hoping you’d be sent.”

“Let me guess. Your brother convinced you?” Yangyang arches a brow with a humored smile.

“He did, yeah. But, also, if there were a chance I could see my parents again, I’d wanna be the first to go.” Yangyang smiles, meeting Mark’s eyes. “Well, one of them anyway.”

“Thank you,” Yangyang inclines his head and Mark nods, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, still humble even though he’s a year older and already a full-fledged warrior.

“You’d better get going. Good luck, Yangyang…”

Yangyang inhales, exhales slowly, and pulls Leon’s reins, leading him through the gate with a smirk over his shoulder, “Probably won’t need it, but thanks anyway!”

Mark smiles and waves an arm over his head, watching him go. 

The dirt path cutting through the forest curves and Yangyang quickly loses sight of the village. He’s on his own. Sunlight filters through the tall trees and he climbs up on Leon when the morning chill is gone, taking hold of the reins and leading the softly braying creature through the woods. It’s once they’re through the forest and before a stretching yellow plain that the sun is midway to its highest point in the sky. He consults the compass, sets Leon in the right direction, and if he spends the rest of the day admiring his mother’s sword, no one has to know.

  
  


He passes up a few villages, small compared to his, nestled in open green and yellow plains, beside small creeks and raging rivers, surrounded by rice paddies and groves of trees. He stops only at midday so he and Leon can have lunch under the shade of a spindly tree beside a stream they find, breaking off from a river. They continue after that, sharing an apple for dessert.

They settle for the day as the sun descends past the horizon. In a thinned out forest, having made it past the plains, Yangyang ties Leon’s reins to a branch of a low-hanging tree and removes the saddle, setting it on the ground to use as a pillow.

“We’ve made good progress today. I think it’s more forest from here on out.” Yangyang murmurs to Leon, who’s eating idly at the grass.

He lays back, his mother’s sword at his side, his hands behind his head as he stares up at the moon, shining through the spaces between the trees. He smiles, “I wonder if they miss me… I know I miss BoBo.” He chuckles, glancing at Leon, already laying down with his legs tucked under himself. “I’m joking. I miss them… Just gotta survive today, tomorrow, and the day after that… Just gotta make it and then I’ll finally— I might get to meet my mother.”

Leon snorts softly in his direction and lays his head down, stretching out his legs as he does. “Ok, ok, I’ll shut up.” Yangyang smiles and curls onto his side, facing his mother’s sword. “Goodnight,” he whispers and closes his eyes, letting Leon’s soft snoring and the sounds of the night forest lull him to sleep.

…

“I think we’re lost… Can you read maps, Leon?”

His noble steed brays and says nothing else, walking slowly up the inclined dirt path. Forest surrounds them on either side and the last village they passed up had many waving red flags, emblems of the Sun King’s empire drawn on them. The sun is at its highest point in the sky and Yangyang sighs, letting his map rest on Leon’s neck.

“This is _great_. Just our luck.” He shakes his head and rolls the scroll up, tucking it away. “We’ll stop at the next village and figure out our path from there.”

A scream sounds from the forest, interrupting the birds and insect chitters, so jarring that even Leon flinches. Yangyang tugs on his reins, stopping him in his tracks. “Did you hear that?”

Leon snorts, his ears swivelled to the left. Yangyang leans forward to look the mule in one of his eyes. “Do you think we should check it out maybe?”

Leon flicks his ears and says nothing.

“Let’s check it out. We’re lost anyway.” Yangyang tugs on his reins, leading him off the dirt path and into the forest in the direction of the noise they heard. “Hey, and maybe they can help us. They might know where we are.” Leon does not agree or disagree, picking his way through bushes and over roots.

They don’t hear a scream again, but they do hear roaring squeals that only come louder when they break through the trees into a small plain. Near the middle lies a giant stag, trashing its one antler back and forth, a woman in white robes crouches beside it, running her hands over its side. Yangyang quirks a brow and jumps off of Leon, leading him forward by the reins.

“Yo!”

The woman looks up and smiles, waving him close. Yangyang lets go of Leon a few feet away just so he doesn’t have to be near the stag. “Come around here—” she gestures for him to kneel next to her—“Do you have a knife? There’s a flint stuck here and I can’t get it out.” She moves her hands away from the stag’s thigh, blood painting her palms and fingertips.

“I have a sword and some… chopsticks?” Yangyang grimaces, patting the sword on his waist.

She glances down at the scabbard and shakes her head with a small smile, “That’s too big. The chopsticks will do.” Yangyang reaches in his bag, drawing them out and handing them to her. She takes them, “Can you pet him? This might hurt him… a lot.”

Yangyang nods around a strained smile and moves to kneel by the stag’s neck. “H-Hey, buddy—” the stag squeals loudly, Yangyang looks over his shoulder to see the woman has already stuck his chopsticks in the wound, he pets his hands over his neck and snout—“It’s ok! You’re ok! Just tough it out a little longer.”

The stag continues to squeal and groan while the flint is removed, while Yangyang pets and shushes him in the same manner he would with Guanheng and Dejun’s pups whenever they scraped their knees or elbows. Its eyes go all wide and Yangyang has to hug onto its neck to keep it from running off.

“There! There! It’s done!” The woman says and Yangyang rolls off of it. The stag trashes its antler and gets up, running off into the forest, leaving dust and grass in its wake. Yangyang glances at the woman, who smiles wide and holds the dark flint up between his now-bloodied chopsticks.

“Didn’t you need to patch up the wound?” Yangyang tries not to grimace as she hands the chopsticks back.

“Oh, I did. I put some paste in it and covered it with mud. That’ll give it enough time to get to work—” she stands, dusting off her knees, but her robes are not tied closed and Yangyang gets an eyeful of her chest—“I’m lucky you came when you did.”

“Mhm, mhm.” Yangyang is red and looking at anything that isn’t… her? He doesn’t think women are _that_ flat-chested. He’s seen some of the female alpha warriors-in-training, they’ll sometimes remove the tops of their robes like their male peers. But he’s almost fairly certain this… person is an omega and Yuta made sure he knew very well that peeping on omegas, regardless of their primary gender, is just plain wrong.

“What’s your name?”

“Uh… Yangyang—” he turns away from them to bring Leon close—“and this is Leon.” They have their robes tied up when he turns back around. A crescent moon adorns their robe in blue stitching. He feels like he’s seen it somewhere before.

“Nice to meet you, Yangyang, Leon. I’m Taeil. Sorry about your chopsticks. I can get you some new ones. I have some at my place, come on.” They smile and gesture for them to follow, already walking off in some random direction into the forest.

“Oh, uh, thanks…”

Taeil must notice his confusion cause they smile over their shoulder, “You may refer to me with female pronouns. Anyway, what’s a young beta like you doing out here? There aren’t any villages in an 11-mile radius of these woods.”

 _I could ask you the same thing._ “I’m just sightseeing before I settle down. Also, Leon and I kind of got lost.” Leon, walking along beside him, brays as if refuting that statement. “Ok, ok, _I_ got us kind of lost.”

Taeil chuckles ahead of them, “Fate brought you to me then.”

The sun is still crawling in the sky and Yangyang gets the feeling he shouldn’t spend too much time here. “What happened to that deer earlier?”

“Amateur hunters—” Taeil sighs and shakes her head—“There’s plenty of prey in these woods and a lot of times they come and just loose their arrows, only retrieving the ones in the dead creatures. I befriended that stag. He had a broken leg.”

Yangyang grimaces and feels less bad for the bloodied chopsticks in his hand. “That’s very noble of you.”

Taeil chuckles again and doesn’t say anything else, leading him to some unknown destination that turns out to be a cave dug out into a cliff. He knows Johnny would probably reprimand him for following strangers around, wasting time, but Leon isn’t spooked around this strange omega, so she can’t secretly be some kind of villain, right?

“You live out here alone?”

“Yes. But I don’t mind. It’s very peaceful.”

“Well, I’ll definitely have an interesting story to tell when I get back home, running into a mysterious omega out in the woods.”

She grins and leads him into the small cavern, disappearing in the dark until he hears rocks being struck and a lantern comes to life, brightening the interior. A small bed sits at the back of the cave, beside it an iron chest that looks eerily familiar, but the cave is pretty much empty besides those two things and an iron pot sitting there, probably holding her food.

She hangs the lantern on a rope stretching across the ceiling like a clothesline and then shuffles over to the pot, drawing out a bag of rice and a wooden spoon and setting them aside. She digs through some more, humming to herself, and then abruptly stops, “A-ha! Here we go. One pair of chopsticks for one Lee Yangyang.” She smiles, holding the pair out towards him. 

He smiles, drawing his sword just inches out of the scabbard so the blade flashes menacingly, “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t remember telling you my surname.” The smile on his face morphs into a scowl as she keeps smiling that same smile, unthreatened by him.

“Well then, you really are as oblivious as your father,” Taeil smiles fondly and turns away from him to set her utensils and rice bag back in the pot. “And feisty like your mother. Put that sword away, Yangyang. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Yangyang’s heart stutters in his chest as he lets the sword slide back into its sheath. “You know my parents? Y… You know who I am?”

“I know them very well,” Taeil grunts, picks up the pot with a bit of difficulty, and sets the handle in his open hand. “They were my closest friends, and how could I forget the adorable pup I held 20 years ago—” she pats his cheek with a smile—“Stay for dinner.”

She walks past him out of the cave and then it all clicks into place. The embroidered moon on her robes, the iron chest, identical with Johnny’s back home.

“ _Y-You’re the Moon Queen?!_ ”

Taeil chuckles and doesn’t say anything else. 

He helps her with starting a fire and setting the pot over it. She leaves to retrieve water and returns with a full wooden bucket. He takes it from her as soon as she steps back into the small clearing, helping her carry it to the heated pot. They pour the water out into the pot, save for some to clean the rice with. He takes the time to feed Leon while they wait for their rice to cook.

Soon enough, the sun has descended past the forest and the fire is their only source of light. He ties Leon to a tree and removes his saddle. Taeil— The Moon Queen crouches beside the pot, stirring the insides before covering it up. Yangyang seats himself across from her, the legendary leader, supposedly dead all these years.

She smiles when she catches him staring. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” Yangyang nods. She turns her attention to the fire, flames dancing in her eyes. “I recognized that sword—Ten’s sword—and then, you told me your name and I was certain you were his son. The moon… She told me I’d be meeting someone important soon.”

Yangyang shakes his head and points a finger up at the sky, “The _moon_ told you?”

“Yes. I am not called the Moon Queen for no reason. When I meditate, sometimes she gives me visions, glimpses of futures.” Yangyang fidgets where he sits, his mother’s sword on his lap. Taeil smiles. “What’s the matter?”

“I… I don’t mean to be rude, my queen… but I thought— everyone thought you were dead. I mean, we even hold a festival every year in your name, to honor you, and my mother, and Lee Taeyong. We thought you were all gone.”

“Not completely—” she holds out a hand, palm up—“After the fight with the Sun King, my body forced me into a coma. I lost track of Taeyong and Ten. I woke up in these woods, who knows how many days or months after. I think she was giving me another chance at life, but all I’ve done is stay here and heal the animals.” She stares up at the sky for a moment, closing her palm.

They sit a moment in silence. The fire crackles, Leon sighs, plopping down, the forest makes its own noises, very much alive.

“S… So you don’t have a clue what happened to my mother?”

Taeil shakes his head no, “But I know he may still be alive… somewhere.”

“And my father?” Yangyang looks down at his lap. “I was told he was in your army and that he died fighting a few months after I was born, but no one knows where his grave is or what his name was.”

“Your mother only told one person who your father was,” Taeil murmurs. “I am not that person.”

Yangyang’s head shoots up. There’s only one reason why his mother wouldn’t tell anyone who his father is. But why would he be ashamed? Was… Was he not supposed to be made? “You have no clue who…?”

“I have my suspicions, yes. Actually, I’m more than certain I know who your father is, but it is not my place to tell you. You’ll have to ask Ten yourself.” Taeil cuts off any more questions on the subject by uncovering the pot and serving out two bowls of the boiling congee within. She passes one of the wooden bowls to him along with a spoon. He takes them with a small bow that makes her smile fondly again, like he’s a pup, though he probably is compared to her.

He blows on his first spoon, expecting tasteless slop, surprised when slight spice and salt accompany the thick grain.

“How’s it taste?” She asks with a grin when he’s eating away eagerly.

“Perfect, my queen.”

She smiles, “I’m glad… You really are your mother’s son, hm?” She chuckles and sets her bowl aside, cupping her hands together. “I remember when you were _this_ little. Ten wouldn’t let anyone hold you, just me and the doctor that delivered you, Qian Kun.” Taeil sighs wistfully, “That man was our best medic and one hell of a strategist.”

Yangyang chokes on a spoon of congee. “Kun?! You knew Kun?!”

Taeil blinks at him, surprised, “Yes, you know him?”

“Know him? He raised me! Him and his mate. They own an orphanage in the village I’m from. They—” he snorts in disbelief—“They’re the best… I can’t believe Kun was in your army.”

Taeil nods like it’s nothing, “He missed out on that last fight, babysitting you.” She smiles at his flabbergasted expression. “Why?”

“He never told me any of this. He told me he was a normal person, that he met Yuta and settled down and that our chief brought me to them.”

“Your chief?”

“Johnny. He was my mother’s best friend.”

Taeil quirks a brow, “Johnny?”

Yangyang nods, “John of the Suh clan. His family were warriors and successful mule breeders apparently.”

“My memory’s a little fuzzy,” Taeil shakes her head with a small smile and holds out a hand. “Eat some more, pup. You’re a little too thin.”

Yangyang passes his empty bowl to Taeil, watching as she serves him more. “Trust me, my queen. I’ve tried bulking up before, but the food just passes through me like I’m a ghost or something.”

Taeil chuckles and passes the bowl back. She watches him as he eats, smiling to herself. The moon shines overhead, not completely full anymore.

“So what has little Yangyang been up to all this time?”

“Getting into trouble,” Yangyang smiles. “The bullies like calling me names. They think I’m lying every time I say Lee Yongqin is my mother. They like calling me ‘bastard orphan’ even though they’re orphans too—” Yangyang chuckles, eating his congee steadily—“I defend myself when I can. I don’t let anyone mess with me.”

“That sounds… interesting.”

“Yeah. My boyfriend thinks I should just ignore them, you know, but what will my mother think? I don’t want him to think his son is a wimp.”

“Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend, Yangyang?”

Yangyang smiles proudly, “Mhm! His name’s Donghyuck. He’s the chief’s son. We’ve been together for two years, but we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“Aww,” Taeil coos. “What’s he like?”

“He’s amazing. Intelligent, funny, super cool, like way cooler than me, and he’s one of my bestest friends. He’s also, like, super beautiful too. And smart, really smart.”

“He sounds perfect.”

“He is!” Yangyang grins and sets his empty bowl aside. “He is to me anyway.”

Taeil smiles, “So then what are you really doing out here? You wouldn’t go adventuring without Donghyuck, right?”

Yangyang sits up, realizing he’s been caught, “Weeeeeellllll, ok, yes, I lied. I’m sorry, my queen. But, also, Hyuck and I, we’re not like that. If one of us wants to go somewhere without the other, we don’t take it as personal offense. He’s his own person just like I am—” Yangyang nods and draws out his map, scooting over to sit beside Taeil—“I’m out here on a quest. The Sun King’s heir is trying to bring his dad’s empire back to its former glory. He sent my chief a letter saying they had someone important to you locked away. We don’t know if it’s my mother or Lee Taeyong they have.

“My chief was able to find the prison and I’m supposed to go there and break them out.” Yangyang gestures at the village between the two mountains. Taeil looks over the map, before letting her finger rest on a forest south of the village.

“We are here… That village is a trap, Yangyang.”

“How do you know? Wait, let me guess, the moon told you?”

“You’re getting the hang of this,” Taeil smiles and nods. “I know where they’re really being held and it’s not far from here—” Yangyang opens his mouth but Taeil holds up a hand before he can ask anything—“As I said, the moon only gives me glimpses. I didn’t understand what they meant until just now. Had I known, I would’ve tried to break them out myself.”

Taeil lets her fingers drag across the map to the foot of a different mountain to the west of the forest. “Here. There’s no village, no flags, just one old building next to an old mine shaft. You can be there before the sun even reaches its highest point in the sky. There are not many guards so the place won’t draw attention. I suspect this will be an easy mission for you.”

“What will you do, my Queen?”

Taeil rolls the map back up and passes it to him. “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome in these woods. I’ll start on my way back home.”

“Home?”

“Your village. Don’t worry, we’ll meet again there.” Taeil stands, stretching her arms over her head. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. We should rest.” She bends forward to start cleaning up, but Yangyang stops her.

“Let me take care of it, my queen.”

She smiles, surprised, “Ok. Just leave the pot behind one of those trees. There’s a mother bear that likes picking up my leftovers for her cubs.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yangyang nods and picks up the iron pot, taking it off the fire. Taeil watches him for a moment before disappearing into her cave. By the time Yangyang has set the cooled pot behind the tree line, put out the fire, and cleaned the bowls and spoons they used, Taeil has presumably gone to bed, the lantern in her cave blown out. Yangyang lays down just outside, head pillowed by the saddle, Leon dead asleep near him.

Tomorrow is a big day. Equal parts nerves and excitement fill him. He has a hard time falling asleep until he starts counting sheep, counting tales of how he got to meet the Moon Queen in all her glory. The painting in Johnny’s home doesn’t do her beauty justice, he thinks.

He finally turns in with his tiger charm held tight in one hand and his mother’s sword in the other.

…

The next morning, Yangyang wakes first and makes breakfast, rice and apples. When Taeil wakes, he has two bowls set out, the sun is beginning to rise somewhere behind the trees, and Leon has his saddle on, munching away at grass and leaves.

Taeil has changed out of her bloody robes from yesterday and into some dark blue ones. “Good morning,” she yawns.

“Good morning, my queen.” Yangyang offers one of the bowls to her.

She smiles as she takes it, inhaling the sweet aroma. The steam rising from the bowl visible even in the little sunlight that reaches them. “Thank you.”

They squat around the small fire, eating in silence. Taeil begins to look more awake by the time she’s done, running a hand through her shoulder-length hair absentmindedly. “Who taught you to say that?” She asks when they’re both done and Yangyang is cleaning up.

“To say what?”

“My queen. I was only ever called that during the war.”

“The adults of our village. They taught us how important it was that you stood up to the Sun King. We grew up hearing stories of you and your warriors. You were always addressed in that manner. Do you not like it? I can call you something else…”

“It’s fine. I was just surprised, that’s all.” Taeil smiles and stands, walking back into her cave. When she returns, she has a sword in her hand, white scabbard, golden guard, silver grip. “Here. When I woke up, I had it with me. I guess Taeyong helped me get here. If you find him, could you give it to him?”

Yangyang’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “T-That’s Lee Taeyong’s—”

“Yes. Return it to him. Please.” She holds the sword out to him.

“What if I don’t find him?” Yangyang hesitantly takes it, sliding the sword out a few inches, the black blade sits within, glaring up at him almost.

“Then you keep it.” Taeil smiles and gestures at a point at the mouth of the cave. “Hit this part here. As hard as you can.” Yangyang uses the scabbard of Lee Taeyong’s sword, hitting the rock she pointed at with a metallic thud. He steps back surprised when the rocks come crumbling down, the cave is no more. Taeil dusts her hands off, “Well, I guess this is where we part ways.”

Yangyang tucks the white sword in his sash, opposite his mother’s. He slips his bag off and places it over Taeil’s shoulder before she can question him and then slips Leon’s reins into her hand.

“Yangyang? What—”

“Please take him with you. There’s food in the bags for you and him and a map and compass in mine.”

“But you need him more than I do.”

“I really don’t,” Yangyang kneels, interlacing his hands together to boost her up onto Leon. He stands when she’s secure on him and draws out the map for her. “Besides, Johnny will be really mad if he found out I sent the Moon Queen on foot—” Taeil smiles, following his finger as it points out their village, bordered by forest and plains—“This is my home. You’ll be welcomed there and safe, my queen.”

Taeil smiles down at him, rolling the map up and tucking it away. “Thank you, Yangyang. You’re a good boy,” she pats his cheek and tugs on Leon’s reins. “Bring my warriors back to me.”

Yangyang bows, “Yes, my queen.”

He watches as Taeil leaves with Leon, disappearing in a thicket of green, bushes and trees, and then he turns his back on the rising sun and marches through the forest.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo, we meeting important peeps next chapter. I hope y'all liked this one :)
> 
> hope you're all doing well and keeping safe and healthy :)


	4. Chapter 4

It takes longer to get to his destination without Leon. The sun, past its highest point, bears down on his back through the dappled shade of the trees. Ahead, through the foliage, he sees the old wooden building the Moon Queen spoke of. It looks to have been a warehouse. Climbing up a tree for a better vantage point, he’s able to see only one person guarding the doors, a warrior, no doubt an alpha. And as much as he likes a good tussle, he’s sure they have a signal gun on them… He may be able to sneak up on them.

He climbs slowly from one tree to another, picking the branches carefully lest he alert the guard by snapping one. When he’s peering over the building, he climbs down, stepping on the weathered roof. The wood creaks softly under his feet as he climbs down slowly though that must be a normal occurrence because the guard doesn’t so much as look in his direction, right above his head.

He’s about to leap down when another guard comes out from inside, “Hey, it’s your turn to watch him.”

The guard glances at his friend with a scowl, “Already? But I just got out from that freezing shithole.”

“Yeah well if I have to smell dust for another second, I’m gonna go mad. When are our replacements coming?”

“Not for another two days,” the guard sighs.

“Goddammit…”

“Hey! What are you doing up the—!”

Yangyang lands on top of them, whacking them both in the back of the head with the scabbards of his swords. They crumple like sacks of potatoes, landing on the wooden porch with thunks. Yangyang smirks down at them and tucks the white sword away, “And that’s why you don’t complain on the job, dumbasses.”

He unsheathes his mother’s sword and walks into the building, wielding it before him. Sunlight falls on the floor in patches and lines through the broken roof. The warehouse is mostly empty save for random earthenware pots sitting around covered in cobwebs and dust. It looks like it used to be a soy sauce factory.

He continues forward and nearly has a heart attack when he almost slips down stairs. He looks down. Lanterns light a stairwell spiraling down into the ground.

“Now why would they just put this right in the middle of the floor?”

Yangyang shakes his head with a sigh and descends the stairs, holding his sword up in case there’s more guards. He loses count of how many steps there are as the world becomes just a little speck of light above. The lanterns lead him down and when the ground levels, he leaves the stairs behind, into a long tunnel.

He hurries his pace through the stretching underground passage and then he sees a figure ahead, kneeling in the dirt and chained down to the wooden support beams of the tunnel. “Hello?” 

The person doesn’t answer, head inclined, curled in on himself.

Yangyang approaches slowly, heart thudding loud in his ears. He grabs a lantern off the wall and shines it closer. Brown ragged robes, curved nose, and a platinum mullet.

“Lee Taeyong,” he all but gasps.

The kneeling warrior doesn’t respond or wake even when Yangyang calls his name, but he’s definitely alive. Yangyang exhales slowly and raises his sword, bringing it down on the shackles around his wrists. They fall apart and the warrior is free… but he’s not moving.

“Lee Taeyong,” Yangyang crouches in front of him and hesitantly pats his shoulder.

The warrior is silent, but now Yangyang can see his chest rising and falling slowly. He frowns and shakes him by the shoulder, “Lee Taeyong! Oh, shit!”

The warrior’s eyes snap open. He glares up at him, taking him in, and then his eyes zero in on Yangyang’s sword and he growls like a rabid dog. Yangyang doesn’t get a chance to think as he’s suddenly tackled by the ancient warrior. “Wait! Hey! I’m on your side!” He shoves Taeyong off with a growl of his own and tries getting back on his feet, only to get pinned again with his mother’s sword now centimeters away from his neck and in the hand of the crazed warrior.

“What are you doing with his sword!?” He nearly roars in his ear, his knee pressing into his chest. “You have one second to start talking or I’m painting the walls with your blood!”

“Hey! Wait! Wait! I’m Lee Yongqin’s son! I’m Ten’s son! I’m here to rescue you! The Moon Queen— Taeil sent me!”

Taeyong freezes up above him and then growls again, “You’re lying! Ten didn’t have any pups!”

“It’s been 20 years since the war. The Sun King’s heir is trying to rule our realm again. I was sent to free you from here!”

Taeyong still has his teeth bared, the edge of the sword inches closer to his neck.

“My name is Lee Yangyang. My mother is Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul. I don’t know my father… but I know that my mother is still alive somewhere and you’re my only hope of finding him!”

At that, the warrior slowly steps off of him. “Ten… Ten had a son?”

Yangyang sits up, holding a hand over his throat, trying to control his breathing as he stares up at Taeyong, clearly bewildered as he stares down at his mother’s sword.

“Do you know where my mother is?”

Taeyong silently nods, meeting his eyes. He doesn’t seem as crazed as he was seconds ago. Yangyang smiles slightly and hands the white sword over, “The Moon Queen told me to give this to you.”

Taeyong’s eyes widen at the sight of his sword. He takes it, returning his mother’s sword to him reluctantly. “You really are Ten’s son then?”

Yangyang nods and sheaths the sword. “We should go. I knocked two guards unconscious when I came in. I can’t say they’ll still be knocked out when we leave.”

Taeyong looks him up and down and then takes off running back down the tunnel. “Hey! Wait up!” Yangyang runs after him. How is he running so fast?! Taeyong slows before they even get to the stairs, tapping his sword against the wall. Yangyang stops a few feet away from him. “Lee Taeyong…? Sir? What are you—”

“Here.” Taeyong backs up against the opposite wall and then rams into the other, bracing his shoulder against it.

“What are you doing?! The tunnel will collapse on us!”

“Help me through!” Taeyong growls at him and backs up again, not bothering to dust off the dirt sticking to him. Yangyang shakes his head and joins his side. “One, two—”

“Three!”

They ram into the wall and fall through, the ground crumbles forward into a different tunnel and the one behind them begins to cave in on itself with a thunderous sound. Yangyang looks back in the dark, squinting his eyes through dust and coughing lightly. The previous tunnel is blocked completely. 

Beside him, Taeyong gets up with a grunt, dusting off his robes. “You alright?” He holds a hand out to him.

Yangyang nods and takes it, standing with the tug he gives him, “Where are we?”

“In the mountain’s mines. They have Ten somewhere in here. I can smell him.”

Yangyang quirks a brow and sniffles, “I don’t smell anything but… dirt… and worms.”

Taeyong starts marching ahead, “Won’t be long before reinforcements come. We need to get Ten out while there’s only two guards up there.”

“How did you know this was all down here?” Yangyang asks, hurrying to keep up. He doesn’t particularly like walking around in the dark even if he can kind of see his surroundings.

“They had us both in these mines for a long time and we almost escaped once, but they separated us, built that new tunnel down there for me and everything.”

A faint light shines ahead after many minutes of walking in silence. Yangyang follows right behind Taeyong. It seems surreal to have met two of the three legends in a span of two days. He isn’t sure whether to fawn over them or swear his life to them or pinch himself awake… But Taeyong seems thinner than the legends made him out to be, scrawny even. He wonders how long he’s been locked up down here.

“Lee Taeyong… sir?”

“You can call me Taeyong.”

Yangyang has to cough to cover up the squeal that tries to escape him. “Are you sure my mother is in here?”

The light turns out to be an oil lantern and Taeyong grabs it off the wall, holding it up as he turns to face him. Yangyang stops in his tracks as Taeyong searches his eyes. He smiles after a moment, a complete 180 from his previous stoic expression.

“Don’t worry, pup. I’ll get you to your mother no matter what, ok?” His voice softens and Yangyang doesn’t understand why it’s so comforting to hear those words from him. Maybe because of all the stories he’s heard, of how hard-working and kind this alpha before him was.

Yangyang nods, not trusting his voice. Taeyong pats the top of his head and turns back around, continuing on their way through the tunnels. They split off from the main path many times and he wonders briefly if they’re lost. It’s eerily quiet.

“Taeyong—”

“We’re close. Hold this—” he holds the lantern out to him and Yangyang grabs it with quivering hands—“I can… I can feel him… close… somewhere in here.” Taeyong runs his hands along a wall, pushing his fingers through the dirt. “We can’t bust through any walls though…”

Yangyang then remembers what Donghyuck told him about the telepathy and opens his mouth to ask about it, but, of course, he’s interrupted by a loud horn, echoing seemingly from all the tunnels. 

Taeyong grits his jaw. “They caught up. How are your fighting skills, pup?” He asks as he draws his sword.

“Good enough,” Yangyang draws his sword too. Their eyes meet and they nod. Taeyong takes the lead, running down a tunnel. Yangyang follows behind him with his sword pointed towards the ground, held out beside him.

He hears a growling war cry and then the loud clash of swords, Taeyong takes the brunt of the enemies, coming at them from the other end. He is slashing and subduing them, alarmingly fast. They fight their way forward into a wide cavernous area, filled with a squadron of guards. Yangyang defends Taeyong’s back from enemy guards dressed in fiery red robes trying to sneak up on him. They aren’t heavily outnumbered, but one misstep and Yangyang knows they’ll be at a disadvantage.

Taeyong is a whirlwind, spinning and dodging faster than Yangyang’s eyes can follow. He finishes off the last guard, hitting them in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword and it’s then Yangyang realizes he subdued most of his enemies without killing them. Taeyong smiles at him, huffing slightly. Yangyang snaps his jaw shut.

A pained cry interrupts them and Taeyong growls, taking off down a tunnel faster than Yangyang can keep up. He sheathes his sword as he runs, losing sight of Taeyong’s dirtied robes. “Taeyong! Wait for me!” He curses under his breath when his voice echoing back at him is the only thing that answers. And then he slows to a stop when he sees wooden bars ahead, swinging open on their frame.

He approaches slowly and sees Taeyong crouching over something with his back to him. He steps through the threshold of the small cell. A guard lies on his side, bleeding out if not already dead. A small lantern sits on the floor, just out of reach of the guard’s hand. Taeyong glances back at him, blood dotted on his face, and he smiles, moving aside.

And there he is. 

Ten.

The painting. 

That stupid painting didn’t do him justice at all. He seems so fragile, so different lying there in Taeyong’s arms in the same dirtied brown robes, a pained expression on his face, an arm wrapped around his stomach, his dark hair long and unkempt, his eyes are so brown. A far cry from the legend, the badass he pictured, but Yangyang doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful person than him.

A sob catches in his throat and tears run down his face without his permission. Ten looks up at him. _His mother looks up at him_. Yangyang falls to his knees, sniffling, “Mother— I’m— Do you… Do you remember me?”

Ten quirks a brow, the pain leaving his face only for a small smile to manage its way on his lips. He holds out the hand not pressed to his stomach. 

“Yangyang.”

His voice. His voice is nothing like he imagined it. It’s high and lilted and warm and home. He’s kneeling at his mother’s side before his mind can fully catch up.

“Yangyang, baby, why are you crying?” Ten asks, even though there’s tears on his face too as he buries his fingers in his baby’s hair. Yangyang shakes his head and presses his face to his mother’s chest, sniffling and crying like a pup. “You’re here with me now. Everything’s ok. You’re with me, baby. You’re safe.”

Yangyang’s lips wobble, feeling his mother presses kisses to the top of his head and scratch his scalp lightly, “I missed you so much. Every day and night I missed you.”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry, my Yangyang.”

He pulls away from his mother to look into his smiling eyes. He smiles up at him like nothing’s wrong, like nothing else matters in this moment, and cups his cheek, sweeping his thumb to catch his tears.

“You know, this isn’t at all how I imagined meeting you again, baby.”

Yangyang sniffles, holding Ten’s hand to his face, keeping the delicate hand under his bigger ones. He doesn’t know what else to say, all of his questions come to the forefront of his mind, but he knows now is not the time for those.

“Mother…”

Ten quirks a brow, an amused smile on his lips, “That sounds kind of distant, no?”

“Mom…?”

Ten scrunches up his nose in disapproval and Yangyang chuckles wetly at his expression before murmuring, “Momma…?”

“That’s the one, baby. That’s perfect…” Ten winces and his breathing comes quicker.

“Tenie,” Taeyong pulls his mother closer to himself, cradling him in his arms as he stands. Ten screws his eyes shut and leans his head into his shoulder.

_Tenie?!_

“I’m ok. Just a little stab wound. I’ve dealt with worse,” he groans.

Yangyang watches them with wide eyes, dried tears on his face, his emotions all over the place. Taeyong looks to him, “We have to get out of here. Lead the way, Yangyang.”

Yangyang nods, drawing his sword once again as he steps out of the cell. He follows the scent of cold autumn air, tracing it till they’re stepping out of the mines. Atop a hill on the mountain, the forest stretches out below them, beyond the woods are the plains of mix-match yellow and green stretching out to the horizon. Clouds move across the sky like herds of buffalo and deer, blocking out the evening sun.

“We’re finally out of that hell, Yongie,” Ten murmurs.

Taeyong glances down at Ten and then at Yangyang, “We need shelter. He needs food, water. It’ll be dark soon. More guards will come.”

“I know where we can wash his wound, but we can’t stop at any villages on this side. They’re all under the control of the Sun Prince. The nearest neutral village is far out, a day’s travel.”

“That’s not good enough,” Taeyong grumbles.

A whinny interrupts before the tension can build between them. They both look downhill to see a team of horses, all standing around idly with the Sun Empire emblem stitched into their saddles.

Yangyang leads the way through the forest, the horse snorts harshly under him. Trees blur past them. Taeyong follows on his own horse, holding the reins in one hand and Ten tight in the other. “Woah!” Yangyang tugs on the reins, almost screeching to a halt as the creek from the night before comes into view. The horse slows, skidding and throwing up rocks and dust. Taeyong comes to a stop beside him as he slides off and begins tearing the sleeves off his robes to wash them out in the water.

Taeyong approaches, crouching as he lays Ten down beside the creek. Yangyang hands the cleaned out cloths to Taeyong and moves to pillow his mother’s head in his lap. Ten smiles up at him as Taeyong suddenly undoes the sash around his waist and opens his robes.

“Hey!” Yangyang cries, his hand darting out to keep his mother’s robes closed. Taeyong looks up at him with wide eyes. Yangyang knows he and his mother were close, but not _that_ close. His previous trust in him is replaced with defensiveness. He’ll be damned if he lets anyone try and harm his mother.

Ten chuckles softly, breaking their staring contest. “You guys are funny.”

Taeyong frowns down at him and then back at Yangyang, “Your mother is losing blood. I can’t treat him if I can’t see the wound.”

Yangyang continues to glare at him as he opens the robes enough for only his mother’s stomach to be visible. The faded scar from where he was born runs down his navel, the bleeding gash sits along his waist. He watches as Taeyong cleans off the blood and applies the cloths, staunching the wound. Taeyong ties his robes closed when he’s done, staring down at Ten.

“It only skimmed you, but it won’t close on its own like this.”

Ten hums and pats Yangyang’s knee, “Help me up, baby.” 

Yangyang nods and very carefully helps his mother to his feet, keeping an arm loose around his waist. His scent is hidden under the filth of his robes and the metallic tint of the blood he lost. Ten licks his thumb and wipes the specks of blood from Taeyong’s face and Yangyang watches as the warrior in white’s expression morphs into something open and vulnerable as he looks up at his mother.

A part of him ponders the meaning behind the longing in his eyes and the other part hates it, wanting to shield his mother from the alpha’s stares.

“We should go—” Ten says, patting Taeyong’s cheek lightly and pecking Yangyang’s temple— “We need to lose these clothes, baby, and maybe have some dinner. Can you do that for us? For me?”

Yangyang nods and reluctantly lets go of his mother as he joins Taeyong’s side. They mount their horses. Ten sits snug with Taeyong, pressed back to front in a manner that Yangyang thinks is too intimate, but Taeyong keeps his hands on the reins, nowhere near touching his mother inappropriately.

“We’ll follow you, baby,” Ten smiles and Yangyang forgets all about his anger. He has his mother now. He has to get him home safe.

He nods and flicks the reins, “Yah!” The horse whinnies under him and takes off. He hears the thundering hooves behind him, Ten and Taeyong following close.

They ride through the woods, passing up herds of deer that turn to watch them as they burst through. The clouds are driven from the sky as they burst onto the wide plains, cutting their own path through the waving grass. Evening sun warms their backs, passing up small farming plots, metallic buildings and wired posts. 

Dusk paints the sky when a village appears in the distance, the sun sinking under the horizon. Yangyang slows alongside a calm river, cutting through the grass and disappearing behind it as it flows. Taeyong slows beside him, turning to him with a quirk in his eyebrows.

“I’ll go and buy robes and food. Stay here and wash off.”

The duo nod and Yangyang leaves them behind, racing off towards the village. He leaves his horse tied to a dry, gnarled tree and goes into town, buying a bag that he stuffs with two robes, gauze, medicine, two small pots, cups, and a heaping amount of rice, meat, and tea. The wallet Yuta gave him is a lot thinner when he leaves the village.

He makes his way back through the dark, the moon shines up ahead, sometimes obscured by a random wispy cloud or two. He wonders if Taeil has gotten to the village yet. He slides off his horse, leading it by the reins when he sees a small fire ahead. Taeyong is sitting right next to his mother, holding his hands tight in his. The flickering light of the fire dances on their cleaned faces. They haven’t noticed him and he slows down.

“Tenie.”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a son?”

“What difference would it have made?”

Ten stares into the fire, face impassive. Taeyong frowns and brings Ten’s hands up to his mouth, blowing warm air on them, massaging the plump fingers of his thin palms between his own.

“I would’ve tried harder to get you home to your baby, to him and… and to your mate, his father.”

Ten glances up at Taeyong, searching his eyes with a small smile. “You’re silly, Yongie.”

Taeyong can’t say anything else. They both look up in alarm and then relax, seeing Yangyang before them. Taeyong lets Ten’s hands slip out of his at the pup’s— the young man’s pointed stare. He crouches across from them, setting his bag down. “I bought all I could—” he stands, holding two sets of beige robes like his—“Here.” He gives one to Taeyong, without meeting his eyes, and crouches next to Ten with an endearing smile on his face. He watches as Taeyong walks off into the dark to change and then turns his eyes back on his mother. “I bought you medicine too.”

Ten smiles warmly and strokes the back of his hand against Yangyang’s cheek gently, “You did, baby?” He chuckles when Yangyang nods, face red. “Ok. Let me change real quick.”

Yangyang helps Ten to his feet and watches him walk off into the dark with the new robes in his hands. He listens for him as he crouches in front of the fire again. Crickets chirp, owls crow in the distance, the horses graze, the river trickles nearby, his mother heaves quiet sighs.

Taeyong returns first, sitting across from him, donning the new robes, the same old, mangled boots on his feet. “Thank you, Yangyang.”

“Yeah… You helped me find my mother, so this… this is nothing…” Yangyang doesn’t look up as he boils two pots over the fire. One holds rice, the other tea, and in between them, chunks of meat cook on stakes. When Taeyong doesn’t answer, Yangyang glances up and is surprised to see him staring with a small smile on his face. “What?”

“I thought I was gonna die in that hole before I ever got to see the light of day again. Only for Ten’s son to come rescuing me,” he snorts softly. “Funny where life leads you, hm?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Yangyang doesn’t particularly feel like being buddies with the alpha that’s being more than friendly with his mother. But that just leads to more questions. If his mother really didn’t intend to have him, he wouldn’t be acting as warm as he is, right? What other reason would there be for keeping his whole existence a secret from one of his closest friends? Keeping the person who fathered him a secret from everyone but the doctor that delivered him? His mother is shrouded in mysteries it seems.

Ten returns soon after, looking between the two silent bodies by the fire. The only link between them. He smiles and sits slowly, “Smells delicious. Who taught you to cook, baby?”

Yangyang shakes his head, turning the stakes so the meat cooks properly. “I suck at cooking. This is basic stuff.” He passes his mother the bag holding the medicine and gauze. “I got this for you.”

Ten takes the bag with a smile, “Thank you, baby. Tae, help me put this on.” Taeyong shuffles closer and Ten undoes his robes enough for the wound to be out. The cloths are stuck to it and soaked with blood. Taeyong leans away so that he can see by the light of the fire as he peels off the old cloths. Ten barely winces, holding his robe open. “What have you been up to, baby? Where’ve you been all this time, hm?”

 _Right where you left me._ Yangyang bites his tongue and looks away from his mother. “I’ve been in the same ol’ village.”

“Neomelas?”

Yangyang nods and exhales softly. He should be happy. He should be jumping up and down with glee. But all these questions are pressing on him. He needs answers.

“Kun founded an orphanage with his mate, Yuta. They took care of me alongside your best friend.”

“My best friend?”

“Johnny—”

“Johnny!? Johnny’s still alive!?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Yangyang glances at his mother, smiling bigger than he’s ever seen. “He’s the one who sent me to rescue you guys.”

Ten chuckles and closes his robes as Taeyong finishes patching him up. “Ah, Johnny, that giant son of a gun must miss me a lot. Wow… I can’t believe Kun settled down with that clown. Remember, Nakamoto Yuta, Tae? Your old buddy?”

Taeyong nods, but he isn’t smiling like Ten is, picking up on Yangyang’s closed-off responses. Ten laughs, “They used to call them the skinny twins.”

“They’re happy together. That’s what matters, right?” Yangyang crosses his arms and then immediately regrets his building irritation. He’s with his mother now. All he’s ever wanted. Nothing else matters. He takes the pots off the fire and passes the stakes and chopsticks to them. “I forgot to buy bowls…”

“It’s ok, baby. Just like old times, hm, Yongie?”

Taeyong smiles slightly at that, blowing softly on his meat stick. Yangyang pours out three cups of tea and puts them on the ground before them. Ten eagerly digs in, picking rice out of the pot and munching away on his stick.

“Oooh, baby! Bad cooking or not, this is way better than the shit they’d feed us in that hole! What was it, even? It was so dark I couldn’t figure it out.”

“Bone marrow mixed with bread crumbs,” Taeyong shudders.

“Hm. Guess that explains how they kept us alive so long. 20 years? Pfft! Tell me, baby, am I still young and pretty?” Ten bats his eyelashes and curls his hands under his chin delicately.

Yangyang and Taeyong meet gazes and then burst into giggles at Ten’s theatrics. “I wouldn’t know,” Yangyang chuckles.

“Oh right, right. Yongie, am I still irresistible?”

Taeyong blushes pink and smiles, “Yes.”

Yangyang smiles, watching them, all the stories he’s been told unfolding before him. He probably shouldn’t be so mean to Taeyong. He’s been by his mother’s side since they were teens after all. Yeah, that’s it. He mistook Taeyong’s advances on his mother and forgot the years of friendship between them.

“Were you really in those tunnels this whole time?” Yangyang asks as he sets more stakes over the fire, flicking meat juice off his fingers.

They both nod. Ten stuffs his mouth with more rice, “After the fight, we tried remobilizing, but the Sun King’s puppet, his “second-in-command” rounded up our warriors and held them hostage and then ambushed us. I stayed back to hold them off while Tae got our queen somewhere safe.”

“I should’ve stayed behind,” Taeyong murmurs, removing a grain of rice from Ten’s cheek. “You could’ve gotten away.”

“And let _you_ have all the glory? I don’t think so, Yongie.”

Yangyang smiles, sipping his tea. “We thought you were all dead.”

Ten shakes his head with a smug smirk, “Nah, it takes way more than that to kill us.”

“Everyone’s gonna flip when they see you two alive.”

“Why? We’re no one. The war was a long time ago.”

“No one?!” Yangyang screeches, standing before the bewildered adults. “You’re legends! Lee Taeyong, the Moon Queen’s warrior in white, borne of a dying star and raised by dragons! Lee Yongqin, the Moon Queen’s warrior in black, borne of lighting, forged by the moon, raised by tigers… Everyone knows who you are.” He reaches into his inner pocket and draws out the little tiger charm, small enough that it sits in the palm of his hand. “Every year, we have the Moon Festival on the full moon of the eighth month. We celebrate and honor the Moon Queen and her warriors.

“Every year, I’d hope you’d come back… hope you were alive somewhere—” Yangyang smiles so he won’t cry—“I guess my wish came true. I can’t wait to show you around Neomelas! Johnny is the chief now! This mated couple, Jaehyun and Doyoung, they’re his top warriors.”

“Doyoung?!” Taeyong all but screeches.

“Oh no, not that rabbit,” Ten rolls his eyes.

Yangyang chuckles as he nods and sits near them again. “I call him ‘Uncle Bunny’. He doesn’t like it though.”

“He’s with Jaehyun now?!”

“Yeah, they have two kids together. The youngest is my age. His name’s Jeno. He’s like my brother. Him and Jaemin and Renjun and Mark and Donghyuck. That’s my squad—” Yangyang grins, proudly—“Jeno’s courting Jaemin. He’s of the Na clan.”

“They’re in silk weaving, right? The Na clan?” Taeyong asks, fully invested in the conversation.

Yangyang nods, “Renjun is of the Huang clan. They’re new to the village, but they’re really rich and nice. Mark and Donghyuck are Johnny’s kids.”

Ten spits out his tea, “Johnny settled down?! With who!?” Taeyong strokes his back and murmurs for him to be careful.

“No one—” Yangyang chuckles, refilling his mother’s cup—“He adopted them. We’re all the same age except for Mark. He’s only a year older than us and he’s already a warrior. Johnny was originally gonna send him to rescue you.”

“Oh wow, kid must be good, but not better than my baby, right?” Ten smiles, all sly as he reaches to pinch his cheek.

Yangyang smiles shyly, feels his face burning as he pulls away, “We’re different styles. Mark learned from like proper teaching, like the right techniques. I learned from first-hand experience and also Yuta taught me how to fight like they do in bars.”

Ten sits back and cocks his head to the side, deadpan expression in disbelief, “He did not do that.”

“Yeah, he did! The other kids thought I was lying when I’d tell them you were my mother and they’d call me names so I would make them shut up—” Yangyang smirks, crossing his arms over his chest—“Now no one calls me ‘bastard orphan’ unless they wanna get knocked into next week.”

Ten and Taeyong stare at him, stunned and unable to come up with a response. Yangyang smiles and turns the stakes of meat on the fire. “Johnny tells me I get it from you…”

“Why would they call you that?” Ten finally says.

“Well, cause I don’t know who my father is. No one knows. Johnny and Kun always told me he died fighting in the Moon Queen’s army a few months after I was born… but I mean, if you’re alive, then he must be too, right?”

“That Kun,” Ten mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh and then looks up at him with a small smile. “Yes, he’s alive.”

Now it’s Taeyong and Yangyang’s turn to look bewildered.

“He is?!”

“Where is he?! Tenie, I’ll go and find him for you and Yangyang!”

Ten looks between them with an amused smile that quickly escalates into roaring laughter. Yangyang grimaces and grabs his mother’s hand, “Momma, where is he?”

“How is this funny, Tenie? The alpha you love is somewhere out there, alive, right? He needs to be with you and Yangyang.”

Ten only laughs harder before sighing, wiping a tear from his eye. “Well— Hehe— if you don’t know, then I don’t know either.”

Yangyang looks to Taeyong, confused, but the alpha is just staring at his mother with an unreadable expression. He turns back to his mother and holds out the tiger charm. “I still have this, momma.”

Ten looks down and smiles wide, Taeyong, on the other hand, looks like he’s having another meltdown. “That’s—! I made that for you, Tenie, when we…”

“And I gave it to my son. Is that ok with you?” Ten smirks, shaking his head as he turns back to the tiger charm, running a finger over it gently. “You kept it safe all these years, baby?” Yangyang smiles and nods. “I carved your initials on it for that extra personal touch. Like it?” Yangyang nods again.

His mother winks and reaches for another meat stick, happily munching away after blowing on it. Yangyang tucks the tiger charm back in its pocket and helps himself to some rice from their shared pot. 

They eat in silence, listening to the night world. A coyote howls in the distance and the horses snort and huff in their sleep. Their fire begins to dim, having already eaten up most of the wood Taeyong procured, but they don’t move to add more. The night will be cold, but the fire could alert others to their position while they sleep. Ten gulps down two more cups of tea and leans his head on Taeyong’s shoulder.

“So are both of Johnny’s kids as cool as him?” He mumbles, blinking sleepily.

Yangyang nods and leans back on his hands, looking up at the moon. “Yeah, they are… I’m actually dating one of them. Donghyuck… He’s amazing.”

“Oooh, is he nice, baby?”

“When he wants to be,” Yangyang smiles. “I think you’d like him, or, I mean, I hope you do.”

“He’ll need my approval, that’s all I’m saying,” Ten yawns and very slowly lowers himself to the ground. Taeyong removes his outer robe, leaving him in the thin inner robe, and bundles it up, tucking it beneath Ten’s head. Ten smiles and curls onto his side, watching through half-lidded eyes as Yangyang picks up. Sealing the pots closed, placing the leftover meat in with the rice, setting it in his bag, and tying it closed. Taeyong puts out the fire and they bask under the moonlight.

Ten pulls Yangyang into his arms, nuzzles his face into his hair. Yangyang blushes pink and curls into his mother, pressing as close as he can. His mother purrs softly and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “You need a bath, baby,” he whispers.

Yangyang smiles, snorts softly, can’t stop the little tears pricking at his eyes as he finally breathes in the scent he’s longed for since he was a child.

Rain. Dark, heavy clouds washing their realm clean. Right before it all falls. Petrichor.

His mother smells like petrichor.

Ten shivers, hugging Yangyang to his chest, and whispers, “Tae, it’s freezing. Come closer.”

Yangyang closes his eyes and hears gravel scuttling, his mother sighs softly.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more :)  
> Hope y’all like it :)
> 
> I really hope you’re all doing ok too :)


	5. Chapter 5

Ten and Taeyong wake up to light shining onto their closed lids and the smell of tea, rice, and meat. Yangyang returns from tacking up the horses as they’re getting up. Their hair is sticking up in all directions, they squint against the sun, rising over the horizon. The wide plains surround them on all sides, silhouettes of mountains sit in the distance, dark at first with the explosion of fiery colors behind them and then barely visible, blending into the grey-blue morning sky as the sun continues its slow climb, chasing away the night.

Yangyang smiles, crouching by their small fire, “Good morning, sleepyheads.”

Ten shivers, wrapping his arms around himself. Taeyong takes the outer robe he used as a pillow and shakes it out before laying it over Ten’s shoulders. Ten smiles and pulls it tight over himself, still blinking sleep out of his eyes. “I take it back. You’re not my kid. My baby wouldn’t wake up so early,” he murmurs.

“You can thank Kun and Yuta for that,” Yangyang chuckles as Taeyong takes to fixing Ten’s hair, running his hand through it.

Ten blinks up at Taeyong, staring pointedly at his equally messy hair and snorts, “Look at that bird’s nest.” Yangyang grimaces as Ten licks his palm and in one sweep smooths Taeyong’s hair down. “There.” Taeyong smiles, not at all perturbed.

Yangyang offers them both a cup of tea and then sets the rice pot in front of them. Ten nurses the warm little earthenware cup in his hands as Taeyong reaches in the pot, drawing out the breakfast Yangyang made, rice balls filled with minced meat. Yangyang sits close to his mother, leaning into him. Ten smiles and wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“I took a bath, momma.”

Ten presses his nose to the top of his head and inhales, “I can tell.”

Yangyang grins and tentatively wraps his arms around his mother’s waist, hugging him loosely. Ten lets him cling so he can leech off his warmth and sips his tea. He has to set the cup down when Taeyong passes him one of the rice balls. “Mm—” Ten smiles around his bite and glances down at Yangyang—“You gonna eat, baby?”

“I already did. Those are for you and Taeyong.”

Said warrior murmurs a thank you and sips at his tea. The sun continues steadily rising past the plains, the early morning frost twinkles on the tall yellow blades. Dragonflies dart here and there and zip past them. Ten and Taeyong easily finish off the breakfast, leaving no grains or tea behind.

“So what’s the plan, baby?” Ten asks, returning Taeyong’s robe. Yangyang glances back over his shoulder, washing out the pots and cups in the freezing river, still flowing past despite the cold. Taeyong is tying his robe closed and eliminating all traces of their presence there.

“I’m supposed to bring you back to the village, to Johnny,” Yangyang puts the pots and cups away in his bag.

Taeyong tucks his sword into his sash, removes the saddle on one of their horses, leaving it in the grass, and brings the large creatures close, “How long will it take to get there?”

“We can get there by midnight if we hurry,” Yangyang rests his hand on the grip of his mother’s sword out of habit and then removes it when he sees him staring. “Johnny gave it to me,” he murmurs, holding the sword out to him.

Ten smiles and presses it back into his hands, “I can’t use it in my condition. Hold on to it for me, ok?”

Taeyong holds a hand out to Ten, who takes it, and leads him to their horse, grabbing hold of his hips and hefting him up onto its back. Ten swings his leg over and pets his hands over the horse’s neck, patting comfortingly. “Who’s a strong horsey? You are. Yes, you are.” The horse huffs, seemingly pleased. Ten grins and scoots back as Taeyong mounts in front of him, taking hold of the reins.

“We can’t hurry. Your mother’s wound might open again,” Taeyong frowns, looking Yangyang directly in the eyes. Yangyang, already on his horse, bites at the inside of his cheek, thinking if he should race ahead for reinforcements or not. And wondering why Taeyong is so hard-pressed about keeping his mother safe. It’s not like he’s frail.

“So we’ll take our time!” Ten cuts in with a grin, resting his chin on Taeyong’s shoulder. “We won’t stop for the night and keep it going slow and steady. These babies will last that long, right, Yongie?”

Taeyong nods curtly. Yangyang sighs softly, “Ok.” He tugs on the reins, and the horse lurches forward, walking ahead. Taeyong and Ten come along beside him.

The morning chill is eventually driven away by the sun, rising behind them. Yangyang makes sure they avoid villages they see on the horizon. He’s sure the Sun Prince will soon be aware of his prisoners’ absence. He glances occasionally at Taeyong beside him. His back is straight, dark brown eyes staring straight ahead, he looks like everything Yangyang imagined, even if he is a little on the thinner side. His mother is slouched behind him, cuddled into his back, and possibly asleep. Yangyang smiles, he’s so cute.

They cross little streams and rivers, their clear waters shining in the sunlight. Flocks of birds erupt out of the grass when they pass by, fluttering in the air in an organized group dance before resettling elsewhere. It’s when the sun is reaching its highest point that his mother yawns, blinking awake again. “We there yet?”

“Not yet,” Yangyang smiles over at him. “Honestly, at this rate, we might get there by tomorrow morning.”

Ten hums and glances around at the wilderness surrounding. No farms or villages dot the distance here. “How do you know we’re going the right way?”

“Neomelas is southeast. You find the main road, follow it till you hit a forest, and continue through, and there it is.”

“What if it’s the wrong one?”

“Even if it’s the wrong one, we’ll be on friendly territory. They’ll point us in the right direction. Johnny built strong bonds with the other villages around us,” Yangyang nods.

“Yeah, that sounds like Johnny alright,” Ten smiles and rests his chin on Taeyong’s shoulder again, wraps his arms around his waist.

They fall into silence again and Yangyang thinks maybe now would be a good time to get some answers. He glances at the adults again, his mother is whispering something into Taeyong’s ear, making him smile and giggle softly. He wonders if his father would be jealous of how close his mother and Taeyong are being.

“Momma.” The name feels foreign on his tongue, but the way his mother turns to smile at him every time makes him want to say it again and again until he’s breathless.

“Yes, baby?”

“What’s my father like?”

Ten grins as Taeyong freezes up between his arms, going back to his closed-off little demeanor, and glances at Yangyang, “Well, your daddy is the most handsomest alpha in the world. He’s kind and smart but sometimes he can be a real big dummy. He’s brave and always tries to help everyone even if he has nothing. He’d move mountains for those he loves—” Ten chuckles—“He’d build a whole house from the ground up for someone and then take none of the credit for it.”

Yangyang smiles wide, “Really?”

“Mhm. He’s amazing, baby. And you took after him, I’m happy I have two most handsome boys in my life.” Ten smiles.

“Kun always told me I look more like him.”

“That’s cause it’s true.”

“How did you meet him?” Yangyang grins, feels like he’s a pup again, truly.

“In the academy. He was a level above me, but one day he saw me practicing on my own and offered to help tutor me. It was love at first sight,” Ten sighs happily.

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” Yangyang chuckles.

“Well, this was the closest thing to it. That alpha fell in love with me and I didn’t find out till later. I thought he was just trying to be friendly.”

Yangyang arches a brow, deadpan smile on his lips, “Really?”

“Yes, really! A lot of people liked me back then. I can’t help it, I'm pretty _and_ amazing with a sword!”

Yangyang laughs and Taeyong giggles, his shoulders quivering with amusement. Ten smirks and leans forward to press his nose to Taeyong’s nape. Goosebumps erupt immediately on the alpha’s skin. “Tenie,” Taeyong warns softly.

Ten chuckles, “Whaaat? I missed you. I could barely smell you in the tunnels.”

“Hey, momma, Taeyong, is it true you guys have like a secret telepathy link?”

They both look to Yangyang like he’s actually crazy. “Telepathy?” Taeyong asks like he didn’t hear right.

Ten chuckles, “Where’d you get that from?”

“Oh, uh, you know, I just heard about it…” Yangyang grins. “So is it true?”

“Yes, it fuckin’ is! Look—” Ten leans up and grabs Taeyong’s jaw, pulling it enough so that they’re looking into each other’s eyes, noses touching—“Yongie, what am I thinking right now?”

Taeyong gulps, slowly turning pink, “You’re hungry…?”

Ten grins giddily and lets go of him, “Yes. Yes, I am. What are we gonna eat, Yangyang baby?” He pouts and whines.

“Um…” Yangyang and Taeyong look around for anything they can feed Ten. The omega gasps and points at the grass.

“Food! Catch it!”

The beta and the alpha tug on the reins and the horses stop in their tracks. Taeyong crouches low in the grass and gestures at Yangyang. “Herd it towards me.”

Yangyang nods and circles to come up behind the creature in the grass as Taeyong takes his position, almost hiding in the tall yellow blades. Yangyang presses forward slowly until he hears the scatter of pebbles and the rustling of the creature. He gives chase, blocking off their escape routes until it runs straight for Taeyong.

“Gotcha!” Taeyong lifts the creature by the scruff. Yangyang grins, whooping victoriously until he sees it. The brown rabbit curled up in Taeyong’s hold kicks its legs trying to escape, its little nose wriggling on overtime.

They look up at Ten, still sitting on the horse. Yangyang holds his hands out towards the rabbit like he’s seen vendors do with their goods and Taeyong holds the rabbit up higher. Ten purses his lips and gives it a thumbs down. Taeyong puts the rabbit back down with a pout and it scurries off, disappearing in the grass.

“The next village isn’t for another while, but I don’t think we should risk it. You know, just in case they know y’all are missing,” Yangyang stands, joining Taeyong’s side as he walks up to his mother.

Ten hums and taps a finger against his chin, “Hey, I know! Maybe we can find a stream. There might be fishes, right?”

“I don’t think so, Tenie. It’s really cold.”

“How about… quail?! Oh! Tae! I haven’t had quail in forever! Find me one!”

“Yes, Tenie.” Taeyong turns right around and marches off into the grass.

Yangyang glances up at his mother with quirked brows. Ten smiles and ruffles his hair, “Watch this, baby.” He nods towards where Taeyong walked off to, but when Yangyang turns around, he sees no sight of the alpha.

“Where’d he go—?”

Birds cry and squawk, erupting from the grass a few feet away. Taeyong leaps out beneath them, catching two as the rest hover back into the grass, running for their lives. Taeyong comes running back with two plump quails in his hands, feathers stuck in his hair, grinning as he presents the birds to the gawking duo. Ten smirks, leaning down to gently close Yangyang’s slack jaw with a finger.

They find a small dirt clearing to settle for early dinner. Yangyang starts a fire as Taeyong and Ten de-feather the quails and clean them off. By the time they’re munching on the cooked meat and slurping on the bones, Yangyang is laughing as Ten recounts the story of his and Taeyong’s rivalry. The sun nears the horizon slowly but surely.

“So there I was, hiding in the bushes as Yongie pretty much confessed to Taeil.”

Taeyong grins and shakes his head, “I was not confessing, Tenie! I was vowing my loyalty to her. Those are two completely different—”

“He was confessing,” Ten says, narrowing his eyes and pressing a hand over Taeyong’s mouth.

Yangyang chuckles, “What’d you do?”

“I _was_ gonna wait until Tae left so I could slide in and shoot my shot, but she started on this speech about how she needs _two_ warriors at her side when the time comes, and guess what I did?!”

“You interrupted her, is what you did,” Taeyong giggles.

“I did not! My entrance was perfectly timed. I jumped out of the bushes and said, ‘Oh mighty Moon Queen!—” Ten holds his hands out before him as if presenting a sword—“I vow to devote all my strengths and energies to you!”

Taeyong smiles softly, reciting the last part with Ten. “And I promise to hold you as my found piece forever. We will never be apart even if there are miles between us.”

“Wow…” Yangyang grins. “Was it actually like that?”

Ten nods, “Word for word. Our lives have been adventures since then. We’ve been to every part of this realm, doing what we can to bring justice to those who need it. In the end, we couldn’t save everyone.” Ten smiles sadly, tossing a bone into the fire.

Taeyong squeezes his shoulder comfortingly and smiles when Ten looks up and meets his gaze. He glances over at Yangyang, “And what would you do, Lee Yangyang, before you started your heroic quest to rescue us?”

Yangyang smiles at Taeyong and looks down, “Not a lot. I still live at the orphanage with Yuta and Kun. I help them with a few things, but mostly I just mess around. There’s a couple that owns a bookshop and I’m pretty close with them. They have 12 pups!”

“12 pups?! Oh my god, what?! Are they in a competition or something?” Ten cries.

Yangyang chuckles and shakes his head, “No. I don’t know. They’re really kind and weird and sometimes I’ll go help them babysit or I’ll help at the bookshop, learning the trade. I know how to make bamboo slips.”

“That’s impressive,” Taeyong smiles.

“Yeah, baby!”

Yangyang feels his face coloring as he continues, “Their pups like hearing stories about you two, well, mostly you, momma.”

Ten smirks, elbowing Taeyong in the side with a little upward jerk of his chin. Taeyong smiles and turns his attention back to Yangyang.

“You two are seriously like celebrities in the village. Like a huge deal!” Yangyang grins and then his smile falters.

Taeyong reaches to rest a hand against his shoulder, squeezing gently, “You’ll be a legend too, Yangyang. You found us, rescued us from our 20-year imprisonment. I’m grateful to have met you. I expected nothing less from the son of Ten.”

“Thank you,” Yangyang smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Ten notices, “What’s wrong, baby?”

Yangyang shakes his head, looks away, “I wish father was here… He should be here with us.”

Taeyong and Yangyang look up startled as Ten stands abruptly. “I can’t believe this— Where’s that stream we passed up?”

They both point tentatively towards it. Ten grabs their collars, tugging them to their feet, and leads them along at a brisk pace towards it, leaving their grazing horses behind.

“Momma—?!”

“Tenie, the fire!”

Ten ignores them in favor of making them sink to their knees at the edge of the stream a few feet away. He pushes their heads towards the waters flowing past slowly. Taeyong and Yangyang stare at their reflections, kneeling beside the stream. They meet eyes, genuinely confused.

“Well, do you see now?” Ten asks, hands on his hips. When they don’t answer, he groans in annoyance. “Do I really have to spell it out?! How oblivious are you two?!” Ten’s anger breaks into amusement. He laughs at their faces, half-concerned, half-scared.

“Tenie, I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell us…”

Yangyang nods in agreement with Taeyong. Ten stares down at them, laughter shriveling into a small smile though the glee is still prominent in his eyes.

“Taeyong, how did we meet?”

“At the academy. I offered to give you extra lessons.”

“Momma—”

“Wait, baby. Momma’s talking. Taeyong, the tiger charm you gave me, what sort of gift was it?”

Taeyong’s face goes red, “A courting gift…”

“Taeyong, who helped me through heat numerous times over 20 years ago?”

Yangyang blushes red and grimaces.

“I-I did,” Taeyong murmurs, somehow redder than before.

Ten smiles, “Yes, you did. And you gave me the only thing I’ve ever loved more than I did you.”

Taeyong is shocked into silence at Ten’s confession and Yangyang stands, grabbing onto his mother’s arm, brain scrambling. “Momma? What do you mean?”

Ten smiles, tears swimming in his eyes as he cups Yangyang’s face in his hands and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Your father is alive, baby—” a tear streaks down his cheek and he turns slowly to nod in Taeyong’s direction—“and he’s right there.”

Taeyong and Yangyang stare at each other in silence and Ten huffs out a chuckle, wiping his eyes, “You guys are so stupid… Yongie, really? Who else would I have been with? Yangyang, baby, I know you inherited _something_ from me, right? Connect the dots.”

“T-Taeyo—” Yangyang breaths a shuddery sigh as Taeyong smiles up at him, lips wobbling, tears streaming down his face. He falls into his father’s arms, hugging on tight. Taeyong holds him and nuzzles into his hair, their frames shaking with emotion.

“You can call me what you like, Yangyang… My baby…”

Ten smiles, watching them, and turns around to return to their abandoned fire, “Those crybabies.”

Eventually, the sun sets and the moon takes her place in the sky. The small family of three huddles in front of the fire, staring into the licking orange flames. Ten takes up the middle, Taeyong on his left, Yangyang on his right. Both are still sniffling even as they cuddle, as Ten runs his hands through their hair, comforting them with his scent.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone he was my father, momma?” Yangyang whispers. His heart’s been broken and repaired wholly in a matter of minutes.

“Baby, do you realize what would’ve happened if word got out that the Moon Queen’s warriors had a pup together? They would have killed Kun and Johnny, pillaged Neomelas, and then taken you away…” Ten kisses Yangyang’s temple when he flinches in his hold ever so slightly.

“Tenie, you could’ve told me… I… I would have—”

“You would have done anything and everything in your power to save me and return me home safe.”

“Yes,” Taeyong leans close to nuzzle his nose against Ten’s cheek.

“No. You’d die trying to save me. I didn’t want my pup to grow up without knowing his father. I know it was selfish, but I thought we’d make it back alright. Our baby deserved to know you too, to know your kindness and your courage.”

Taeyong frowns, “Instead, he knew neither of us, Tenie—”

“Please don’t fight,” Yangyang cuts in, pressing his face to his mother’s chest and holding his father’s hand tight in his own.

Ten exhales slowly and shakes his head, “We won’t, baby. Plus, it’s not like it would’ve been a secret forever. Kun and I made a deal that he would tell you who your father was when you married if neither of us ever made it back… I left my sword for you and the tiger charm… I wanted you to have something from the both of us.”

And Yangyang swears he’ll stop crying, but the dawning realization of… everything, well he really can’t help it. Ten shushes him and presses kisses to his cheeks, all the ones he missed growing up. Taeyong reaches and runs a gentle hand through his hair. And Yangyang holds onto their hands, holds them close.

The fire crackles, insects chirp in the night, their horses snore softly, in the distance a coyote cries.

“You still could’ve told us sooner,” Yangyang sniffles, a small smile on his face.

Ten scoffs and rolls his eyes, “No. If I had dropped that bomb on you two, we wouldn’t have been able to escape. You’d have been crying like you are now. You can’t fight with tears in your eyes.”

Taeyong giggles and presses a soft kiss to Ten’s cheek, who purrs automatically and hugs them both closer. “The truth is out now, that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” Ten chuckles. “Still, I am sorry for lying to you both.”

Taeyong tilts Ten’s chin gently towards him with the tips of his fingers, staring into his brown eyes. “No more secrets, Tenie, not between us.” Ten blushes and nods.

Yangyang grins, looking between them, “Everyone’s gonna flip when I tell them who my parents are… I can tell them now, right?”

“You can say whatever you like,” Ten smirks.

“I’m not letting either of you go,” Taeyong murmurs with a giddy smile.

Yangyang cackles, “Aw man, they’re gonna be so surprised! Oh my god, one of my friends, Jaemin! He said he’d let poppa bed him if he were still alive!”

Taeyong blushes pink and laughs loud, panicky almost. Ten grins, “Looks like you still have admirers in the afterlife, Tae. Well, sorry to your friend, baby, but Lee Taeyong is taken, right?” He looks up at him expectantly.

“Only if you’ll have me,” Taeyong says sincerely.

Ten smiles, cupping Taeyong’s cheek. “You… are my one and only—” he turns to Yangyang, cupping his cheek with his free hand—“and you… are my baby, my destiny.”

That night, they lay cuddled together. The fire is smouldered to ashes and the stars and moon shine over them. Yangyang lays in between his parents for the first time, and even though he and his father lay in nothing but their inner robes—Ten dons both their outer robes—they’re the warmest they’ve ever been. His mother presses in on him from the right, his father from the left with a protective arm over both of them.

“I know we missed a lot,” Ten whispers into the dark. “But we’re gonna try our best and be there for you, Yangyang. I’ll make up for everything I missed, for not beating your bullies to a pulp for hurting you.”

“Momma, we were all like 12 years old,” Yangyang chuckles.

“They’re old enough to talk shit about my baby, they’re old enough to take the beating that follows too.” Taeyong and Yangyang giggle softly. “I’m being dead serious too.”

“We’ll make up for lost time, is what your mother is trying to say,” Taeyong smiles. “All the hugs and kissies.”

Yangyang smiles wide and purrs, content. “I love you, momma. I love you, poppa.”

“We love you too,” Taeyong whispers as Ten pecks his temple softly.

They fall asleep in each other’s embrace.

…

Swaying side to side on their horses as they pass up glistening fields with fine morning mist is where they find themselves the next day. They are sans breakfast but the last village they passed up had no red emblems. Yangyang figures they must be closer to home than he previously thought.

His parents ride next to him. Taeyong sits stoic, eyes and ears no doubt paying attention to every rustle of the grass around them, to the plains that stretch to the horizon and past it. It won’t be long before they meet the forest ahead, or so Yangyang hopes. He’ll feel better once he’s back home. Ten, this time around, is a lot clingier, seated in front of Taeyong and facing him so he’s curled up against his chest as he naps. Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind the human-sized cat between his arms.

“Poppa.”

Taeyong blinks and glances at him with a small smile, careful not to move too much lest he wake up the tiger on him.

“Do you think we should stop at the next village?”

“Yes, that might be a good idea. Momma will be hungry… He needs proper rest,” Taeyong murmurs. “We can buy something and continue on our way.”

Yangyang nods. They lapse into silence. Ten shifts in Taeyong’s arms, pressing the side of his face to his chest, smacking his lips before promptly returning to his dormant state. Taeyong keeps still.

“Yangyang.”

“Yes?” He looks at his father, suddenly serious.

“The Moon Queen. Taeil. Where is she? Is she safe?”

Yangyang nods, “I found her in the woods you left her in. She’d been living there this whole time. She pointed me to where you and momma were. I gave her my things and let her go… I’m sure she’s already at Neomelas by now.”

“You let her go on her own?”

“She seemed healthy. I’ve heard stories of her too. I mean she nearly took the Sun King down on her own, right?”

Taeyong smiles, “Yeah, she did.”

“I wish I could’ve seen that fight. I bet the real thing was a lot cooler than what they show in the plays back home.”

“They have plays?”

Yangyang grins and nods, “Kun and Yuta will put one on for the orphans the day before the Moon Festival, and then on the actual day, at night, they hold the main one. They have actors portraying you and momma and Taeil and I think they do pretty well. They act out everything from how you three met to the battle against the Sun King.”

Taeyong blinks a few times, a small smile on his face, “They do?”

“Mhm. I think you’d like it… Or at least I think you would. I’m actually not sure what you like…” Yangyang smiles slightly. “I mean I know what everyone else knows like… pink is your favorite color… and that you really like sweets… Sorry, if I had known you were… I would’ve asked more about you.”

“Had I known you, I would’ve left that prison with your mother a long time ago…”

They lapse into silence again. Yangyang wonders what his father is thinking. Maybe he’s just as confused as he is. For 20 years, he thought his father was dead only to find out it’s Lee Taeyong, the only other person he looked up to as much as his mother, and for 20 years, his father didn’t know of any pups the person he loves may or may not have had only to find out Ten _does_ have a pup and it’s his. Yangyang’s head is hurting just recounting the situation to himself.

He glances at his father and is surprised to see him massaging the back of his mother’s head, fingers buried in the strands at his nape. His mother is practically goo in his hand, a pleased sleepy smile on his face as he leans in almost inappropriately close. It looks like he might be asleep, but his hands are balling up his father’s robes aaaaaand as happy as he is for them, he would rather not see… whatever _that_ is.

He clears his throat, “You know I’m still here, right?”

Ten opens just one of his eyes, looking over at him, “Oh, hey, you. What are you doing over there?”

Yangyang purses his lips and Taeyong giggles, though he’s still caressing the back of his mother’s head. Ten waves a hand, gesturing for him to go away. “You just close your eyes and go over there. Mommy and Daddy are having adult time—” Ten giggles and peppers slow kisses over Taeyong’s face—“alone time.”

“I’m literally gonna be 20 in a few days,” Yangyang grimaces. Secretly, he’s happy his parents clearly love each other, but he’d rather eat a cactus, spines and all, before admitting it.

“I don’t care if you’re 20 or 40, no funny business for you. You are a baby, my baby, our baby.” Ten smiles, nuzzles his face into the crook of Taeyong’s neck, “Seriously, Yongie, you _have_ to work on your clinginess problem.”

Taeyong laughs, his face scrunching up. Yangyang shakes his head and rolls his eyes. He wonders what their reaction would be to finding out what his boyfriend gave him as a farewell gift. He smiles, thinking of Donghyuck. He’s probably following Mark around, annoying him.

“Wait. So you two weren’t even together before I was born?” Yangyang brings his horse closer to theirs, close enough his and his father’s legs barely brush against each other.

“Nope!” Ten purrs.

Taeyong shakes his head no, “I didn’t even know he was pregnant with you.”

“I thought you were always together though.”

“Not always. Sometimes Taeil had us working different parts of the realm. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, Taeil sent me away to help this little village that was having trouble setting roots down. I stayed with them those nine months, teaching and learning how to work the land so food would grow and how to make use of every scrap of fabric for clothing. They kept it secret in return for my kindness.”

“And then what did you do?”

Ten holds out a hand, smiling when Yangyang grabs on, “Kun came to help. You were born in a little wooden house after midnight. You were a normal-sized pup and you were always hungry and always awake, watching me with those little brown eyes. I took you back with me to our queen’s base when my pregnant scent went away. Kun would keep you hidden while I attended war meetings and trained the younger warriors, and all my free time I’d spend with you.”

Yangyang smiles, squeezing his mother’s hand. Taeyong’s gaze strays to their hands, warmth evident in those dark brown pools. “I thought you were seeing another alpha then. I thought I’d lost my chance…”

“No, I was just seeing another beta,” Ten smirks and winks at Yangyang, who chuckles and leans over to press a kiss to his mother’s hand. Taeyong presses a kiss to Ten’s other hand. And Ten smiles wide enough to rival all the wonderful, beautiful things in their world. “What are we gonna do when we get to Neomelas?” he asks.

“We’re going to buy a house and I’m going to fill it with many, many gifts for you and our pup,” Taeyong purrs, pecking Ten’s jaw softly.

“I’ll show y’all my favorite restaurant and all the best vendors!” Yangyang grins when Taeyong reaches to ruffle his hair.

“I like those ideas,” Ten smiles and nods approvingly.

They continue making plans, even as they arrive at a village, buying steamed dumplings to share on the way home. Ten and Taeyong make plans of finally mating and Yangyang makes plans to grow as close as he can to his parents. When the forest finally comes into view, Yangyang grins wide, excited for both his homes—old and newfound—to meet.

He slides off his horse before they can enter the woods. Ten and Taeyong look down at him questioningly. “What’s wrong, baby?” Ten asks.

“You guys need a badass entrance! Look, momma, you take this horse. I’ll lead you both in, all the way to the chief’s house.”

Ten grins and immediately slides out of Taeyong’s arms to mount the other horse with Yangyang’s help, “I love the way you think, baby! It’s gonna be the entrance to end all entrances!”

Taeyong smiles fondly, watching as Yangyang returns the black sword to its rightful owner. Ten tucks his sword into his sash and sits up straight to mimic Taeyong’s posture. “Like mother, like son,” his father murmurs.

Yangyang steps back to look them over, the setting sun behind them really does wonders for that heroic look, “Ok! Perfect! Let’s go!” He takes hold of the reins of both horses and leads them into the woods, walking along beside them so his shoulders are in line with those of the taller creatures. He leads them on the familiar dirt path, curving through the trees. And then finally, _finally_ that old stone gate appears ahead, through it is the rest of the village he grew up in.

A familiar figure sits at the entrance. Black stetson, grey and white robes stand out and Yangyang can’t help the grin that starts pulling at his lips. Mark waves his arms over his head excitedly and then stops altogether, jaw hanging slack when he recognizes the two people accompanying him. Yangyang smirks, puffing his chest out proudly as he leads his parents right up to where Mark stands.

Mark’s mouth closes and opens many times before he’s able to produce any sound, he bows to them both, “Lee Taeyong, Lee Yongqin. We’ve been expecting you—”

But of course, before Mark can get another word in, a blur of yellow and white speeds past him. “YANGIE!”

Yangyang gets the air knocked out of his lungs, his arms suddenly full of hyper Donghyuck. 

“Ducky—” His boyfriend doesn’t even let him say anything, kissing him on the spot like he’s been gone for years instead of days. Yangyang melts until a little voice at the back of his mind reminds him that his parents are still nearby and watching all this unfold.

Donghyuck pulls away with a smile, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Ducky.”

“Hey!” Mark drags Donghyuck away from Yangyang with a hand twisted in his collar. “You two can make out later. Yangyang is busy right now, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at Mark and crosses his arms, eyeing Taeyong and Ten with barely any interest even though he knows exactly who they are. Mark turns back to Yangyang, “The chief is at his home.”

Yangyang nods, taking hold of the reins once again, trying to ignore the stares he’s sure his parents are aiming at the back of his head. “Did the Moon Queen…?”

Mark grins and nods, “She’s been accommodated at our house. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you and what you’ve brought.”

Yangyang inclines his head, “Thank you.” He leads the horses forward again, down the village’s main road. Mark and Donghyuck fall into step a few feet behind them. 

“Some boyfriend you got, baby,” Ten murmurs teasingly. “Little brat didn’t even acknowledge us.”

“Remind you of anyone?” Taeyong whispers. Yangyang bites at his cheek to keep from laughing as Ten sputters.

The main road is as busy as it would be any other day. People mill about their business, some are heading home from work, others are buying food for dinner, vendors are packing up as store owners place lanterns on their porches. But when they see the two horses Yangyang is leading through, they stop and stare where they stand. Until someone realizes who the strangers are and then the news of Lee Taeyong and Lee Yongqin’s resurrection and arrival in their little Neomelas spreads through the crowd beginning to form and line their path.

Yangyang leads them all the way through, a smile permanent on his lips, right up till they’re standing at Johnny’s porch. Jaehyun stands there, his beige stetson perched on his head like always. He grabs hold of the horses’ reins when Yangyang helps his mother dismount. Ten gives him a small smile before returning to his deathly serious expression.

Jaehyun inclines his head towards the two warriors before facing Yangyang, “Welcome home. I’ll take care of your buddies here. You go ahead, Johnny’s waiting.”

Yangyang nods, bowing to him, “Thank you.” He walks into the house, his parents following behind him. Doyoung’s at his desk as always and only looks up when they’re passing by him. His brush clatters to the desk and his chair screeches against the floor as he stands abruptly, recognizing—“Ten. Taeyong. You’re—!”

He smiles wider than the time Donghyuck fell down the stairs and envelops them both in a hug. Ten smiles slightly, patting Doyoung’s back, Taeyong hugs back as hard as he can, face buried in Doyoung’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re both alive… and here,” Doyoung lets them go, keeps his hands on their shoulders.

“Believe it, bunny,” Ten smirks, patting Doyoung’s hand before removing it. That one and the one on Taeyong.

“You can thank Yangyang,” Taeyong says with a little head nod towards his son.

Yangyang grins, “See, I’m not always causing trouble, Uncle Bunny.”

Doyoung arches a brow, though he’s still smiling, before turning to Ten, “He’s your problem now. I hope you’ll take responsibility for him.”

Ten smirks, “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure to discipline my son thoroughly for giving you trouble all this time.” He winks over at Yangyang as he inclines his head.

Doyoung notices and shakes his head before sitting at his desk again, “Taeyong, keep an eye on him, _please_.”

“Always,” Taeyong smiles, taking Ten’s hand. Ten intertwines their fingers, smiling just as big. They follow Yangyang up the stairs.

Yangyang knocks on the door of Johnny’s office and slides it open when he hears that familiar easy-going voice from within. The setting sun’s light falls through the window, brightening the room. The Moon Queen sits there behind the desk in the chief’s seat. Johnny stands just beside it, arms crossed over his chest, blond hair tied back as always.

Johnny’s jaw drops almost comically when he sees his old friends. Yangyang grins and bows first towards Taeil and then towards his chief, “Chief, I’ve returned from my quest. I found your warriors, my queen.”

Taeil smiles, “Thank you, Yangyang.” She stands and Ten and Taeyong drop to their knees, inclining their heads as they present their swords on both hands. Yangyang turns around, surprised, and steps away as Taeil rounds the desk to stand before them. “Ten, Taeyong, thank you—” she pulls them to their feet, reaching to wipe the tears on their faces gently—“You were able to bring peace and happiness to these people and many others. It’s long time you both received yours, hm?”

Ten chuckles wetly, “We were always happy following you into battle, my queen.”

Taeil smiles fondly, “There are no more battles to fight, Ten, at least not physically. You know that just as well as I do, right?”

“My queen, what of the threat from the—” Taeyong starts.

“Johnny and I have sent a parcel. Hopefully, the Sun Prince will listen to reason instead of jumping into war like his father.”

“My queen, it’s still very much possible he could be worse than that tyrant,” Ten crosses his arms.

Taeil smiles. “It’s a possibility, but the Sun Prince is also an orphan—” she glances at Yangyang with a small smile—“and I know they’re not all as miserable as they’re made out to be.” Yangyang smiles, cheeks tinting pink. “For the time being, I’m ordering you both to rest and catch up with your friends.” Taeil nods and steps back, sensing the excited energy building in the tall chief nearby.

“ _Ten!_ ”

“ _Johnny!_ ”

The duo leap into each other’s arms, hugging on tight, mouths running a mile a minute. Yangyang and Taeyong watch on in surprise until the alpha is pulled into the embrace by the chief. He smiles, watching his parents reunite with their friend.

“So—” Taeil murmurs beside him—“did you get your answers?”

“Yes, my queen. Thank you… for your guidance.”

Taeil smiles and hugs him, petting a hand over his hair, “I should thank you too for helping me find my way home. I’m always here for you, pup, ok?”

Yangyang nods, hugging back.

Eventually, Johnny does let go of Ten and Taeyong and when he does, he returns Yangyang’s wooden sword to him. “Here you go, little sheep. I kept it safe for you. I think Donghyuck even came in here to give it a polish.”

Yangyang smiles, tucking the sword back into his sash where it belongs, “Thank you, Johnny.”

The chief nods, smiling wide down at him, “There’s a house ready for you and your parents. It’s that one that was vacated last year, you know?”

Yangyang nods, “Yeah, I remember.”

Johnny looks like he wants to say something else, but Taeil grabs onto his arm before he can, “Let them go. You can talk plenty later, besides isn’t it _our_ naptime, chief?”

The family’s eyes all go wide as Johnny blushes and nods, smiling down at Taeil, “It is, my queen.”

“Go on,” Taeil smiles, waving them away.

They leave the office before they can witness anything intimate between the new couple. Yangyang grabs onto his parents’ hands, standing between them.

“I see Johnny still has a thing for tiny omegas,” Ten chuckles.

Taeyong smiles slightly, “It’s good she’s finally allowing herself to settle down. He will treat her well, right, Yangyang?”

“Yeah, Johnny’s a good person. Come on, I’ll take you home.” Ten and Taeyong smile, holding onto their son’s hands as he leads them out of the chief’s house and down the road. The sky begins to dim, other colors entering the light blue as the sun sinks past the trees. Yangyang lets the presence of his parents ease his nerves as he leads them towards his first home.

Kun and Yuta are on the porch, peeling a sack of potatoes between them. Kun’s knife drops to the wooden floor with a clatter when he sees them approaching, eyes going wide. “Kunnie, what’s wron—” Yuta follows his line of sight and grins. 

“Yangyang!” 

They drop their things, running to meet the beta in the middle, pulling him into their arms.

“I’m back home,” Yangyang smiles.

Yuta grins, holding him by the nape of his neck affectionately, “You took too long, pup. You made my Kun worry.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I met some important people along the way, that’s why—” Yangyang gestures for Ten and Taeyong to come close—“My mother and my father.”

And then they go surprising Yangyang again, dropping to their knees and bowing so their foreheads nearly rest on the ground. “Thank you for watching our Yangyang for us all this time,” Taeyong says.

Kun pulls them both to their feet, a panicked expression on his face. “Don’t do that. Of course, we took care of him, but that’s nothing. I couldn’t leave my friend’s pups on their own, even if it’s Ten.”

“All this time and you still insist on teasing me,” Ten sighs though he looks like he might be on the verge of tears again.

“It’s the only way you listen to me,” Kun shoots back.

Taeyong smiles, meeting both his and Yuta’s eyes, “Still. We really are grateful for all you’ve done for Yangyang. He wouldn’t be who he is today without you two.”

Yuta grins, “He wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for you or Ten. Thank you for coming to take him off our hands. My Kun would’ve balded prematurely had he stayed here any longer.” 

Kun smiles exasperatedly as they chuckle. “You’ve just arrived, right?” Taeyong nods. “Well, you should go and rest. We can catch up later.”

“Right, right, we can!” Yangyang grins, hooking his arms with Ten and Taeyong’s. “We won’t bother you no more.”

Yuta slides an arm around Kun’s waist as his mate arches a brow at Yangyang. “You can come and bother us plenty tomorrow with the firewood, huh?”

Yangyang turns right around, leading his parents away. “What?! I can’t hear you! Goodnight, Kun! Goodnight, Yuta!”

Yuta chuckles and waves goodbye along with a smiling and irritated Kun.

Yangyang leads his mother and father to the house Johnny set aside for them. They’re surprised to find it all furnished, the kitchen stocked with food, the stove with firewood, the wardrobes in their rooms with a few garments of clothing.

“Home sweet home,” Yangyang murmurs, finding all his things from his old room inside the new one. He even has a window and he smirks, already planning to sneak his boyfriend over when he can.

Taeyong looks up when he walks into the kitchen, lips and brows quirking up at his expression. “What’s the matter?” He asks, rinsing rice in a pot.

“Nothing. Just happy to be home,” Yangyang walks over to his side. “Where’s momma?”

“Taking a bath. I’m supposed to go in a bit to help him dress his wound again.”

Yangyang frowns, “Will it take long to heal?”

“Maybe a week if he doesn’t pick at it,” Taeyong smiles and leans close to peck his forehead. “Don’t worry. He’s tougher than he looks.”

Yangyang smiles slightly, watching his father’s hands massaging the rice in the water. “Poppa…”

“Yes?” He stops what he’s doing, standing up straight.

“I know I’m not that great a cook, but if you need help with anything, I’ll do my best.” Yangyang grins, hugging onto his arm like a pup would. He really doesn’t care if he’s almost 20.

And Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind it either, smiling wide. “Well, you can help me by starting the fire. I already have everything ready to go.”

“Ok!” Yangyang strides over to the stove. When he has a fire going, Taeyong begins to cook, setting the rice in a pot and meat and vegetables in another. Yangyang watches quietly from the side, studying the expression on his father’s face as he sprinkles in spices from multiple earthenware jars. The aroma that fills the kitchen is better than anything he’s ever smelled in his life, spicy and sweet and enough to make his stomach growl.

Taeyong smiles, hearing it too. He removes the pan with the veggies and meat from the stove and wipes his hands off on a rag. “I’m gonna check on momma. Will you watch the rice for me?”

“Yes, poppa.”

Yangyang watches the pot like his life depends on it. The rice finishes cooking before his parents return so he serves out 3 little bowls of rice and sets their dinner on a big plate to share off of.

“Baby.”

He looks up and smiles. Ten is arm in arm with Taeyong. His mother inhales and smiles, “Smells delicious. Yongie, let’s eat outside. I wanna see the sky.” And his father isn’t one to refuse any request of his mother.

They sit on the porch, staring up at the orange, red, and pink expanse of the sky as they eat. Their house is near the outskirts of the village, but they’re still close to Johnny’s house and the main road.

“Oh my god, Yongie, did you see their faces?! Like they couldn’t tell whether we were real or not!”

Yangyang laughs, legs crossed, bowl of rice in his hand, chopsticks in the other. Taeyong laughs high and short at the astonished faces Ten pulls.

“You know what, I could get used to this celebrity status,” Ten nods, picking up a slightly charred piece of zucchini. “Look at this, just how I like it!” He pops it into his mouth and leans his head on Taeyong’s shoulder. “You’re so good to me.”

Taeyong blushes as Yangyang grimaces around a grin, “Get a room!”

“Hey, don’t think I forgot about you and your little boyfriend. First thing he did was try and eat your face!” Ten arches a brow.

Yangyang feels his face burning and returns his attention to his rice bowl. Taeyong smiles fondly and pets a hand over his back. “He seems nice and I’m sure he’s a good boy if Johnny is his father.”

Yangyang smiles slightly. Ten grins and joins in, reaching to stroke a hand over his baby’s cheek gently, “And that wooden sword. You made it yourself, right?” Yangyang nods, shyly. “I saw a bunch of nicks on it. My baby must have gotten into a lot of fights with real swords, hm?”

“I was just defending myself,” Yangyang shrugs.

“I’m proud of you, baby—” Ten smiles and pinches his cheek lightly—“We both are. Right, Yongie?”

Taeyong smiles and nods, “You’ve done well without us.”

Ten nods, smiling proudly as he runs a hand through Yangyang’s hair. They grow quiet for a moment. Ten sets aside their empty bowls and plate, and scoots closer so that Yangyang is snug between him and Taeyong.

Soon, the red and pink are chased out of the sky and orange and purple mingle, running muddled where the sky meets the horizon.

“Poppa, what’s wrong?” Yangyang murmurs when he feels his father heave a sigh.

“I’m just thinking… I thought Tenie and I would be stuck in those tunnels till we rotted away… Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined… well, you… I’m still in shock,” Taeyong giggles softly. “To think Tenie and I had a pup…”

Ten smiles, “I mean you should’ve known all those late nights would lead to something, right?”

“Yes, but I didn’t think—”

“I’m telling you, Yongie. This baby is yours.”

“I’m not a baby.”

Ten wraps his arms around Yangyang’s waist, hugging onto him. “Yes, you are. You’re my baby.”

Taeyong scoots closer, throwing his arms around both Yangyang and Ten, “Our baby.”

Yangyang smiles and purrs softly, nuzzling against his mother and father, something he thought he’d never get to have. His scent blends with theirs naturally, with his mother’s petrichor and his father’s greenery. 

There’s still a lot that needs to be done. He still has to introduce his parents to all his friends and show them all the sights the village has to offer and tell them of all he’s done and been through. They still have to figure out their new lives together and worry about the Sun Prince and his next move, but Yangyang doesn’t let those things bother him, not now, not when he’s gotten all he’s ever wanted. There’s still tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. After all, the end of one story is merely the beginning of another.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> I know, I know, that’s all!? Well, for now, yeah. I’m thinking of other parts that could be explored. Obviously having to do with the aftermath, but I hope y’all are satisfied with this for now. This is a really really really self-indulgent fic, but I’m beyond happy y’all enjoyed it too :)
> 
> I hope you’re all doing well, keeping safe and healthy in this holiday season! Love y’all! <3


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